


The New Order Of Merlin BOOK 2: Cursed

by Kamiccola



Series: The New Order of Merlin [2]
Category: Frozen (2013), Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Cursed Vaults (Harry Potter), Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), Dragons, Elsa (Disney) and Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood) are Siblings, Gen, No Smut, Old Gods, Order of Merlin, POV Merlin (Merlin), POV Remus Lupin, Quidditch, The Old Religion (Merlin), Video Game: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamiccola/pseuds/Kamiccola
Summary: Hogwarts Founders left behind a secret that could bring about the end of the school. Merlin needs to crack the mysteries of The Cursed Vaults to save the school while dealing with his dragon emergency.Jack needs to face the fallout of past choices.Elsa is torn between loyalties. Will injured relationships recover?Remus Lupin wants to prove that werewolves can coexist with wizards peacefully.What if they all fail?Ever wondered where the Hogwarts castle's magic came from? The gravity of what the Founders had done will finally be revealed.





	1. Do you accept?

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Book 2 of The NOOM. If you didn't read Book 1 yet, you should get on it or you will get a bunch of spoilers. I tried to keep Chapter 1 spoiler-free so you can get a feel for what’s coming but starting from Chapter 2, I’m not holding them back anymore.
> 
> The idea of Cursed Vaults comes from the game Hogwarts Mystery but I’m using it very loosely, spinning it my own way. I dare say, my Vaults are cooler but I might be biased. How about you tell me?
> 
> We’re in Prisoner of Azkaban timeline. Merlin, Jack, and Elsa are now in their second year while Harry, Ron and Hermione are in their third year.

What was this mystical magic of the moon that no werewolf could resist its call? The half-orb lazily sat among floating white puffs on a canvas of deep blue sky. Remus found his eyes drawn to it against his wish. He had only a few days left of feeling normal. The closer to the full moon, the sicker he would feel, until the day of when the painful transformation would take place - his inescapable curse, lycanthropy.

He closed the curtain to hide the reminder of his condition from view and noticed a new hole in it. He had moths. Perfect. At least pests were getting fed around here. He pulled out his wand, and with a quick spell, sew the hole. Like everything he owned, the curtain was now marked with the insignia of his shabby life.

A knock on the door startled him. He was not expecting guests. His father was his only family but Remus insisted to visit him, ashamed to admit to what conditions he lived in. From the few friends he ever made, only one was alive and currently in Azkaban prison. Did he owe someone money? They were not in luck today.

Albus Dumbledore stood on the other side of the door and smiled at him kindly.

“Remus Lupin, it’s been years.”

The old wizard invited himself in and pat shocked Remus on the back.

They had not seen each other since the Order of the Phoenix was disbanded after Voldemort’s fall. Aside from the few friends he made at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was the only person who ever treated him with respect, who ever gave him a chance.

Remus invited him to sit at the beat-up sofa and tried to not think about the state of his sitting room. His humble house was barely a step-up from a shack, his furniture was falling apart and he didn’t look impressive either.

He wished he could prove that he was able to make something of himself, that the chance Dumbledore gave him to attend Hogwarts was not in vain, but fate wasn’t easy on him. Dumbledore was unique. All other wizards shunned his kind. There was no place for werewolves in the wizarding world.

After a quick catch-up small talk, Dumbledore got to the point of his visit.

“I’m here to offer you a job.”

“Really? That is actually good timing since I am currently looking.”

He tried to not sound too desperate but in the meantime, his stomach growled to remind him that his food cupboard was empty. He hoped Dumbledore did not hear that. It was difficult to keep a job when he had to keep excusing himself due to his condition all the while trying to keep it a secret.

“Excellent.”

“What position is it?”

He wondered if Filch finally retired and Hogwarts needed a new Caretaker. He would accept any job, really, and the prospect of working for Dumbledore sounded great. The old wizard knew about his secret so he wouldn’t have to lie. For a chance to have a steady job, he’d scrub toilets like a Muggle if he had to.

Dumbledore linked his hands in his lap. “I need a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Remus leaned back in his seat. To say that this offer was unexpected was an understatement.

“Are you sure I’m qualified? I’ve never been a teacher before.”

“If I recall correctly, you used to regularly tutor Peter Pettigrew and you were an excellent student yourself.”

Remus grew sad at the mention of his fallen friend.

“You’d take a risk to hire someone like me to teach at your school?”

If parents found out that a werewolf taught their children, they would be outraged. What about fellow teachers? Would they want to live and work alongside him?

Dumbledore smiled at him kindly, not a note of the prejudice everyone else held. “I took a chance on you before and it paid off. I need staff who I can trust. I can trust you, can’t I?”

“Of course,” Remus blurted.

“Do you accept?”

Remus wanted to accept, he wanted to make Dumbledore proud and prove that a werewolf could peacefully coexist in the wizarding world, but the risk was too great.

“I'm not a juvenile wolf anymore. I fear the Shrieking Shack won't be enough to contain me this time. I can’t take the chance that I’ll hurt one of the students.”

“You’ve surely heard of the Wolfsbane Potion?”

Of course, he had heard of that newest invention but he never got a chance to try it. It was difficult to brew and the ingredients were expensive. He could never afford this luxury.

Dumbledore smiled as if he had won the argument already. “You will have a fresh supply of the Potion every month. Everything will be taken care of.”

This was tempting. The Potion was said to make a werewolf tame and completely harmless as well as the transformation less painful. How he wished he could live like that.

“If it helps your decision, you would get to teach James Potter’s son.”

This was an unfair bribe on top of all the others. How could he refuse the first real job offer he’d ever gotten which also came with the benefit of getting to know the son of his best friend? Dumbledore was making all his dreams come true. Could this really be happening?

Remus decided to trust Dumbledore’s judgment. Everything was going to work out as long as they planned carefully.

“I accept.”

* * *

Merlin's cozy library was his favorite place in the house but it became a bitter metaphor for his existence. Some days he felt like one of those ancient volumes, gathering dust, waiting to be read. Has it really been nearly a century since the last time he had invited anyone here?

He brushed those thoughts aside. He was not a forgotten volume crumbling to pieces. He was always ready to add a page to his book. Just like what he was doing today.

He got started immediately, feeling that he had prepared as much as he could for this.

He spread the ancient book in front of him and recited a series of incantations just like he practiced.

The result was quick.

The smells hit him first: livestock, freshly dug up dirt and some pleasant flowery scent. Two women were arguing over a hen. A group of laughing children ran by. Cows mooed somewhere in the distance. Then, he could see it clearly and it all felt so much more real than visiting memories.

Merlin took a good look around at the village bustling with life and inhaled deeply. He was intrigued by the pervasive flowery scent but didn’t see anything that could be the source of it.

He stepped aside to make way for a donkey-pulled rickety cart and the grumpy old man who sat atop. As he watched the cart in wonder and tried to remember the man’s name, he stepped into something squishy.

“Oh, no,” he groaned, not needing to look to understand what just happened.

But he looked anyway. Yes. It was a massive pile of horse dung, complete with flies, which buzzed in outrage that he disturbed their meal.

He tried to wipe his shoe on a patch of grass and a little boy sitting on a wooden fence laughed at him.

Merlin looked behind himself and then back at the boy. He really was laughing at _him_.

“You can see me?” he asked in Old English.

“I have eyes, don’t I?”

Merlin gasped. He did not expect this at all. He thought it was going to be like diving into a very rich memory but in memories, he was just a spectator who couldn’t actually talk to anyone (or step into horse dung). This changed everything!

Maybe he could talk to her?

He abandoned his shoe-cleaning efforts and broke into a run.

There was a puff of smoke rising out of the chimney of a small hut made of rocks, mud, and straw. Even though the door was closed, he smelled that she was cooking that stew he loved. Could he taste it? Was that possible?

He slowly pulled the handle, trying to contain his excitement. If he could actually talk to her, hug her and have her talk back to him... He imagined it would be hard to leave.

The door opened with a creak, revealing his mother’s silhouette in the dim space. The smell of stew was heavy in the air and his mouth salivated. She started turning towards him - she heard him, and could see him as that boy did - but as soon as his foot stepped inside the hut, everything went dark.

“No!”

He did not just lose control over it. Not now!

Merlin spun around, refusing to believe that he failed. Everything was black - nothing to see, nothing to hear, or smell. He was completely alone in the darkness. And he was almost there. He almost spoke to her.

He screamed into nothingness and willed himself to get back to reality. Air rushed out of his nostrils as if he was a raging bull. He was so close this time, it really felt as if he was there, as if he went back in time.

The clock on the table confirmed that two hours had passed though it didn't feel that long when inside. He had to keep this discrepancy in mind.

While he was still frustrated that he didn’t get to enter the hut, hug her or taste her stew, it was the most success he’s had so far.

The runes of the ancient book glared back at him in defiance.

“I will crack you,” he promised them. “I will learn this.”

And he recited the long incantation to repeat the exercise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like Remus?
> 
> What was Merlin up to this summer? You'll find out soon enough.
> 
> Your early reviews will greatly help this story develop. Critique away. Or just talk to me. I like hearing from the readers.


	2. The rumors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! NaNoWriMo was a success. I wrote 84k words spread over three projects during the month of November. It was crazy but in a good way. A good chunk of this book got written but it's currently a big mess. But it's all good mess. We've got dragons, Quidditch action, everyone's training new powers, and in the meantime, something strange is happening with Hogwarts castle.
> 
> Beta read, anyone? I'm mostly looking for feedback on the plot, continuity, pacing, etc. Requirement: you should have read book 1 in full so you'd know what's going on. I would like someone who can keep up and would stick around till the book is finished. As of now, I have about 50k written which should be ready for a beta read within the next few weeks. I'm estimating this book to be at least 150k words long. If you're interested, comment below.

Steam hissed from between the wheels of the train, blowing right into Jack’s face. He spat out the warm air and tried to force his way through the thick crowd but instead of getting on the train, people lingered around and talked.

”Why am I even here?”

He didn't have to take the train. He could've gotten to Hogwarts through Hogsmeade, the little village right next to the castle. McGonagall’s house was close enough for them to apparate there. He would've made it in already instead of dealing with this crowd and the long train ride.

”Riding the Hogwarts Express is an important experience,” she insisted. ”Besides, I think you'll like the reunion.”

She looked at him as if she meant something more by it but refused to answer any questions.

Sure, he was looking forward to seeing his friends but he would catch up with them at the dorm anyway. There was no need to put up with this.

”Look what we got here,” a familiar voice said but Jack didn't even turn around, deciding to ignore it.

”Is it true that you’re a homeless runaway?”

Jack wished people would get a move on so he could get inside.

”Nah, I believe the other theory. That you were kicked out.”

”He's such a freak, his parents didn't want him,” a deeper voice said and cackled.

Jack was stuck as a group of older students blocked his escape route so he turned around to face them.

Draco Malfoy stood there in his preppy clothes and shined shoes. He was framed by Crabbe and Goyle as usual, boys so large, they looked much older than thirteen.

”Malfoy, Grab and Coil,” Jack said with a smirk. ”Fancy seeing you here.”

”It’s Crabbe!” the goonie barked back, his flat face developing red blotches.

“I thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now,” Jack continued, addressing the sneering pale-head in the middle. “Unless you can’t wait to get suspended even before school starts.”

Malfoy’s lips pulled up in an angry grimace when he remembered the last time he tried to pick on Jack and got in trouble.

“You think I’m afraid of a worthless street rat?”

Jack sighed in an exaggerated way. “I really don’t care what you think, Malfoy.”

Malfoy made a step forward, his goonies followed. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed a space small enough for him to squeeze through so he covered his mouth and pretended to cough.

“ _Feall_ ,” he cast the spell and the fully-stacked luggage cart behind Malfoy spilled on top of his annoying blond head.

Using the distraction, Jack snuck onto the train while Malfoy yelled at his goonies, “Where did he go? Did you see?”

The whole summer, Jack had been practicing the few Old Religion spells Merlin taught him last school year. Since they didn’t require a wand, he could cast them unsuspected. He couldn’t wait to start using them in school and already had a long list of prank ideas he wanted to try out.

But the joy of getting a head start on this year’s pranking was short-lived. The narrow corridor did not provide enough space to avoid people’s stares. He hoped that what happened last year would be old news by now, but they all remembered the rumors. He tried to ignore their whispers and find a quiet place to sit out this long ride but each compartment he lurked into already had students in it. He could imagine the awkward silence he would cause if he stepped inside and so he continued looking.

One compartment held an adult he didn’t know who was getting comfortable as if he wanted to take a nap. Jack slid the door open.

“May I join you?”

The wizard smiled gently and gestured at the seat across from him.

The man stared like everyone did when they first met him. Oh, if only they knew that Jack’s white hair was the least of his otherness, would they chase him with pitchforks or lock him up in a lab? In fact, he didn’t know the extent of his roots either. While he finally knew what his father was, his mother’s origins were still a mystery.

“I’m Jack Nix.” He sat by the window, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of being analyzed.

“Remus Lupin,” the wizard said, his wispy mustache turning up into a little smile. “I hope you won’t mind that I won’t be much company. I’m awfully tired.”

Jack shook his head, he preferred silence anyway and looked out the window at the crowd outside. The gathered students were laughing, hugging each other, exchanging stories of holiday fun. He was looking forward to seeing his friends as well, it was a boring summer, but coming back to Hogwarts held a promise of more uncomfortable stares and whispers. He avoided answering any questions last year but he wouldn’t be able to get away forever.

Only McGonagall knew the truth of what happened to Elsa though she assumed his mother was a witch. She knew he was still hiding something and he felt guilty for holding the truth back but didn’t know if it was safe to admit to it. Even if she accepted that he wasn’t human, she was the Deputy Headmaster, she would be required to uphold the school rules: only humans were admitted and only humans were allowed to possess wands. If he was kicked out of Hogwarts, he would be back on the streets and this time he would be all alone. No, he had to hold onto the lie for as long as he could.

All students passed their compartment upon seeing him inside. No one wanted to sit next to the freak. Good. It was better that way.

He pulled out his favorite book, something he found in a dusty corner of the bookshop McGonagall took him to. He asked for help in learning Old English runes over the summer and made so much progress that he hid it, afraid she would ask why he knew that dead language already. He surprised himself. It was like his brain was hard-wired to read runes. Maybe he was better at it than Elsa.

He had a sliver of hope that McGonagall was hinting that his twin sister would be on the train. Was she somewhere there on the platform? He scanned the crowd for her distinctive white braid but only saw a sea of ordinary human heads. He hesitated before, fearing disappointment, but finally gave in to hope and sent her a signal, using that special magical bond they had to find each other from a distance.

She didn’t respond. She wasn’t close enough to feel it. Of course, she wasn't on the train. Mother wouldn’t let her come back to school as he feared. Why would she prefer that cursed underground life to living at Hogwarts with him?

No. He would not think about his sister at all. He shoved that thought deep inside his mind, locked it up in a chest and covered it with a heavy cloak so it wouldn’t try to leak out. He no longer had a twin. It was time he got used to it.

He got back to reading his book. It was actually a very interesting retelling of adventures of a demon hunter, Everard Indomitable. It spoke of ancient rituals and monstrous creatures: a perfect world to get lost in. It was better than any reality he knew.

He leaned his head on the window and his eyes travelled to the sleeping wizard across from him. He was a man probably in his thirties, but the gray streaking his light-brown hair and the sunken look to his features made him look older than that. Even though his face was partially covered by his cloak, the deep scars running across his cheek, chin, and forehead were well visible. Only now Jack realized that he had never seen scars on any wizard. They probably had spells that could fix them. Why didn’t this guy fix his ugly scar?

The compartment door slid open and four sets of eyes looked between him and Mr. Lupin.

“Jack,” Merlin Ealdor came forward and gave him a quick one-arm hug. “It’s great to see you.”

Jack was glad to see his friend but he was also very aware of Harry Potter’s gang who still hung back, reluctant to come in.

“Everywhere else is full,” Merlin said and claimed a spot next to Jack.

Hermione Granger sighed, “It’s going to be tight but we’ll fit. Hi, Jack. Did you have a nice summer?”

She sat down next to Merlin and put her weird-looking cat on her lap while Harry Potter and Ron Weasley sat next to the adult, keeping a slight distance from him.

“Who’s that?” Potter asked.

“Mr. Remus Lupin,” Jack answered.

“Professor Lupin,” Hermione corrected, looking up at the tag on the man’s luggage.

Potter’s dark messy hair was slightly parted to the side, revealing the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. His scar also couldn’t be healed by magic. What could it have in common with Mr. Lupin’s scars?

Potter noticed him staring and locked eyes with him. Jack refused to be the one who looked away. Potter narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. He was stubborn. So was Jack.

This year was going to be different. This year, he wouldn’t let the Wonderboy overshadow everything he did and steal his friends. He tried to convey with his eyes that Potter was no competition. He wouldn’t let himself be beaten.

“Will the two of you cut it out?” Merlin interrupted and Potter glanced at him, losing the staring match.

Jack smirked in satisfaction and got back to his book. One:Zero.

The train had already started moving and Jack was vaguely aware of the conversation happening in the compartment. They were talking about Potter, of course, and this guy, Sirius Black, that escaped from Azkaban prison just to hunt him down.

Jack didn’t even try to hide his smirk as he drew a parallel between the demon hunter he was reading about and this Sirius character. So was the Scarhead a demon in this case? He wished he was as cool as the creatures in this book.

Merlin snuck a look at what he was reading. “Runes?”

Jack shrugged and tried to sound like it was no big deal. “I’ve been learning this summer.”

Merlin grinned at him. Jack could bet that Potter did not try to learn Old English like Merlin recommended last year. Two:Zero.

Hermione gasped. “You’re already reading books?” She sounded like his progress was her personal failure. “I know the runic alphabet and some words but I’m still so far from being fluent.”

“Don’t compare yourself to him, Hermione,” Merlin tried to make her feel better. “Jack had a head-start.”

Sure, he did. He overheard his mother speak in Old English throughout his childhood but she never taught them the language. His thoughts came very close to his sister so he put a stop to them, ignoring the cloak-covered chest in his mind, and went back to reading about a water demon Everard was researching.

“So is it true?” Weasley said but Jack refused to lift his eyes. “Are you really a runaway?”

The compartment was quiet but for the steady rhythm of the train as they all waited for Jack to answer but he wouldn’t even acknowledge it. He didn’t care how curious they were.

“He’s a stinking liar, that’s what he is,” Potter said and Jack couldn’t ignore that.

 _Keep calling me that and you’ll see what will happen,_ Jack thought at him.

Potter crossed his arms and gave him the death-stare. He was terrible at telepathy. Merlin taught them the skill last year and Potter was the worst at it of the whole group.

“And a coward,” Potter continued, not intimidated by the threat.

Did the pursuit of a life free of his heartless mother make him a coward? He didn’t think so.

Jack said out loud, “You hate the Muggles you live with but lack the spine to leave them. Who’s the coward here?”

Potter clenched his fists on his lap and answered with restraint. “I left this summer.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow at him. He didn’t think Potter had the guts.

“Good for you,” he said and got back to his book.

Potter mumbled, “Unfortunately, I’ll have to go back after the school year ends. We can’t all be runaways.”

Jack resisted an urge to throw his book at Potter but it would be a waste of a perfectly good story. Besides, he was determined not to give in to the taunt. He was going to win this round as well.

“I still can’t believe you blew up your aunt,” Merlin said. “I wish I had seen that.”

“I don’t know how I did it,” Potter said eagerly, “but it was brilliant.”

Did Potter have some unstable explosive affinity? Jack found it disturbing that they spoke of the aunt being blown up as if it was a joke and not a horrific magical accident. Jack was curious if she had survived but did not want to add to the sensation with more questions. Potter was getting enough attention as it was.

The atmosphere in the compartment lightened up as they asked the Wonderboy about his summer adventures on his own. And by _on his own_ , they meant that for a few weeks, he lived in a comfy inn, had plenty of money to spend, and wizards protecting him. Potter knew nothing of what it was like to be homeless!

Jack tried his hardest not to listen in but then Potter addressed him directly, “Where’s your sister, Nix?”

The cloak fell off as the forbidden chest in his mind jumped up for attention. A mist of sadness started leaking out of it and Jack clamped it closed and buried it even deeper.

“Do you charge your fans for autographs?” he asked, feigning real interest.

Potter clenched fists on his knees. “I don’t give out autographs.”

“You could make a living by selling Pottergraphs on the streets the next time you want a break from your _awful_ Muggles,” he said the last part with a tone of obvious fake sympathy and Potter looked like he was going to explode.

“Shut your mouth, Nix!”

“I'm surprised you didn’t write an autobiography yet.”

“Stop it!” Merlin interrupted again. “Can you at least try to be civil?”

Jack thought he finished what Potter started in a very civil way. He did not lose his cool and did not blow up anyone - not that he would ever lose control of his magic that way. He was the winner of this round. Three:Zero.

 _What’s gotten into you?_ Merlin thought at him.

_He started it._

_He asked about your sister because he’s surprised she’s not sitting with you. There was nothing else to it._

Jack ignored him and tried to get back to his book, determined to keep the forbidden chest from opening again. He considered pulling a cloak over himself and try to sleep like Mr. Lupin but doubted they would be quiet enough to allow him. He definitely couldn’t sleep to the sound of Potter’s voice. He was concentrating on the book so much that the runes started to swim in front of his eyes and he leaned his forehead against the cool window to give his sight a break.

Dark clouds moved in and rain started beating on the glass, obscuring his view of the countryside. He watched the train’s tears for hours, tracking the path each drop took, trying to predict which way it would slide. They followed a pattern but from time to time, a rebellious drop carved a new way for others to follow.

His eyes fell on the sleeping wizard again. Those scars looked like they were made by some monster. He tried to remember if any of the creatures in the old book were described with claws that would leave scratches like these. He winced as he imagined how much it must have hurt. How did he get attacked? How did he survive? Was he a monster hunter? That would be so cool!

He might have imagined it, but he thought that the wizard flinched every time the Potter Fun Club mentioned Sirius Black. Was he only pretending to sleep so he could listen in? Sneakiness would be a useful skill for someone in monster-hunting trade.

Out of nowhere, Hermione’s cat lunged at Ron, creating a comical commotion in the small space. After the cat finally calmed down, he jumped onto Jack's lap, where he looked up with big yellow eyes, his gaze more intelligent than what he’d expect from a simple feline.

Jack reached out to pet him and a tingle of magic tickled his fingertips. He wasn’t just a cat.

“He’s magical,” he whispered in wonder.

“Crookshanks is half-Kneazle,” Hermione clarified.

 _You're a halfling like me,_ Jack thought at the cat.

Crookshanks rubbed his face on Jack’s fingers and slowly blinked at him. Jack returned the blink and it felt as if he had just had an entire conversation with the creature. He wasn’t sure what he had just agreed to but the cat interpreted it as an invitation, walked in a tight circle and settled himself on Jack’s knees.

“He likes you,” Hermione said with a smile.

“He can stay there,” Ron said grumpily, petting a lump in his pocket. “As far away from Scabbers as possible.”

“What are Scabbers?”

“Ron’s rat,” Hermione answered with a sigh and looked apologetically at the redhead. “He’s a cat. It’s his nature to hunt rodents.”

While Jack wasn’t friends with Ron Weasley, he appreciated the fun name he gave his pet. If he had a rat, he’d call it something ridiculous like that as well.

The train stopped abruptly, lurching him forward and Crookshanks dug his nails in. The lights flickered and went out, submerging them all in near-darkness.

“D’you think we’ve broken down?” Potter asked.

Hermione’s cat growled while a shadow passed by their window. As some strong magic got closer, the window started frosting over and Jack leaned away.

“I didn’t do that,” he whispered to Merlin and they both watched the frost tendrils thicken on the glass until it was completely covered.

Merlin’s breath came out visible as the temperature inside dropped.

“What magic is this?” Jack’s voice became higher pitch against his will.

He knew cold magic - his own, his sister’s, his mother’s, and the natural magic of winter, but this didn’t feel like nature’s work. It was different, sinister, wrong. For the first time in his life, he shivered from the cold.

Their compartment door slid open on its own. Merlin got up and looked outside both ways.

“Nothing there.”

He turned back, a shadow of worry on his face, but when he tried to get back to his seat, he tripped over someone’s feet in the dark. He landed among their feet with a groan, and normally, it would’ve been funny, Merlin was always so clumsy, but somehow, Jack couldn’t find any humor in himself as if it was a candle he couldn’t light.

While Merlin scrambled on the ground, struggling to get up in the small space, above him, long fingers dressed in gray, decaying flesh grabbed the sliding door and a tall dark figure pulled itself inside.

Jack secured the growling cat in his arms and backed up into the corner as far as he could when he recognized that the cold magic originated from the floating creature. It felt like the exact opposite of every good emotion he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t let it approach him. He didn’t know what type of being it was but was sure that being touched by it would be worse than death. He was glad that the cloak made of shifting shadows obscured its face, he didn’t want to see what was under the hood but he couldn’t block the rattling noise its breath made and it reverberated inside him, making him tremble.

The creature looked between them and Jack wished he could become invisible like his father.

‘Not me,’ he begged wordlessly and hugged Crookshanks tighter, wishing the cat’s magic could hide him. ‘Not me.’

The dark figure took only a few seconds to choose its target, and then it descended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think was attacked?


	3. Dementors

Merlin fell to the floor and cursed his uncoordinated legs. He couldn’t even walk without embarrassing himself. Maybe he shouldn’t bother to get up, what was the point? He deserved to be trampled to repent for all of his faults. Goddess knew, no human on earth had more time than him to make mistakes, some that had cost people their lives. Maybe eternal life was his punishment for allowing his loved ones to pay for his failures.

Cat’s hiss broke his train of thought and he shivered which woke him up. Where did these thoughts come from? He turned around on the floor to face the source of the cold he was feeling and cursed out loud. What was a Dementor doing on Hogwarts Express?

There was a wand spell to get rid of this creature but his wand was safely locked away in his trunk. While the creature hovered, trying to choose its victim and the children in the compartment froze in fear, Merlin shielded his mind to resist the Dementor’s influence before it incapacitated him. He could make up a spell to protect them.

The creature lowered down, choosing to devour Harry’s soul. Of course, it went after Harry - poor kid. Merlin told himself to hurry up. He pictured a happy memory - making Prince Arthur bray like a donkey, oh, it was a precious moment of sweet revenge from a very innocent time in his life. With that happy memory in mind, he was about to start an improvised incantation but was interrupted. The adult that was sleeping just a moment ago stood up with his wand raised.

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” he said, prompting a silvery, bright wisp to come out of his wand and hit the Dementor.

Merlin watched carefully if the noncorporeal charm was going to be strong enough or if he would have to step in, but thankfully, the wizard was able to maintain it and pushed the creature out.

Merlin closed the compartment door by magic, afraid anything else would come in and scrambled onto his knees to check on Harry.

The boy passed out in his seat, badly affected by the Dementor and his skin was cool and clammy to the touch. Merlin deliberated if he should use a healing spell to wake him. If it was just these kids in here, he wouldn’t hesitate, they’ve seen him perform more impressive spells, but who was this wizard?

So far only Dumbledore, Snape, and Madam Pomfrey knew the truth of who he was. McGonagall was suspecting something but probably not his real identity. His friends were noticing too that he was more than just odd and he expected that he would have to come clean soon. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind dropping the pretense for them, but inviting strangers to the secret was not wise. He was more valuable when underestimated, overlooked as one of the hundreds of wizarding youths.

The lights flickered on in the train and it slowly started moving again.

“He’ll be okay,” the wizard said and Merlin finally let go of Harry and sat back in his previous seat.

Jack was still squeezed into the corner of his seat, hugging Hermione’s cat, a look of terror on his face. Ron and Hermione were on the verge of tears.

“It’s gone now. You can relax,” Merlin tried to calm them.

“What was that?” Jack whispered, not ready to leave his corner just yet.

“A Dementor. We’re lucky Professor Lupin was here.”

The wizard’s face lightened with a little smile, accentuating deep scars running across it. “Yes, it was lucky indeed.”

Lupin rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a block of chocolate, which he split among them. Merlin enjoyed the temporary warmth that radiated from his stomach while wondering if this wizard always carried chocolate with himself or if for some reason he knew the remedy would be needed during this trip. There was still some frost left on the window and on the sliding door where the Dementor touched it. What if the kids had been alone in this compartment? Did Dementors attack anyone else on the train? The lights of the castle twinkled in the distance confirming his suspicion that they were only minutes away.

“What was a Dementor doing so close to the school?” he said to himself.

And the answer became clear - they were looking for the escaped prisoner and hoped he would follow Harry to Hogwarts.

“Sirius Black,” he breathed out as he understood.

The theory going around was that Black was going to go after Harry which was why everyone provided extra protection to the boy. This included Merlin, who has been checking in on him this summer.

Lupin shot him a quick glance but then focused back on Harry who was beginning to wake up. Hermione helped the boy find his glasses and he straightened up.

The wizard gave him a large chunk of chocolate. “Eat up.”

“What happened,” Harry asked weakly.

“We’re almost at Hogwarts,” Merlin said, looking nervously at the darkness surrounding the castle. Would they have to get through more Dementors before they were inside?

“Where is that… thing?”

Hermione answered, “Professor Lupin got rid of it.”

“I thought you were having a fit,” Ron said, looking nervously around.

Harry wiped the sweat off his face. “None of you fell over?”

“It attacked only you, Harry,” Merlin said. “Eat the chocolate already.”

Harry stared at the brown chunk in his hand and did not look assured. Merlin could bet the boy was asking himself why these things always happened to him.

“You’ll feel better,” Lupin gestured at the boy to get a move on and eat it.

Harry reluctantly bit it and took a breath of relief.

Once they arrived, Professor Lupin went his separate way and the five of them followed the crowd to the coach carriages.

“You know, Merlin,” Jack said. “You turn really vulgar when you’re scared.”

Merlin fought to keep the hood on against the wind and chuckled quietly. His accent and vocabulary tended to shift depending on what company he kept. He caught up with some old friends over the summer and might have gotten used to adult talk. It was time to watch his language again and play the role of a twelve-year-old.

They got to an empty carriage and Jack walked up to the thestral harnessed to it.

“Wow. Look at her,” the boy said and stretched out his hand for the creature to sniff.

Most people found these reptilian winged horses scary when seeing them for the first time - maybe it was the bones sticking out from under their black coat, or the claws at the end of their wings, or maybe it was those pupil-less white eyes, but Jack wasn’t intimidated by its looks at all. The thestral stomped its feet to a double-beat rhythm and snorted, making Jack giggle.

“This kid is freaking me out,” Ron commented.

Harry shook his head and got inside the carriage. Merlin pulled Jack away from the creature, seeking an escape from the unforgiving rain.

_They’re thestrals,_ Merlin thought at him as they sat down. _They can’t see them,_ he added, gesturing with his eyes at Harry, Ron, and Hermione who seemed to have assumed that the carriages moved on their own by magic. _They can only be seen by someone who has seen death._

Jack locked eyes with him like he wanted to say something but in the end, didn’t. Merlin wondered whose death the boy had witnessed. There was a rumor going around that Jack’s twin had died, but Merlin did not believe it.

_Can you fly on them?_ Jack looked like he was ready to mount the thestral at this moment.

_Yes, but they can be tricky to control. I don’t know how well these are trained. Don’t try this by yourself, please._

The last thing he needed was for Jack to sneak off to the Forbidden Forest and attempt to fly a thestral on his own. Jack sighed and longingly looked back at the creature who steadily pulled them to the castle.

“You know, it’s a little rude,” Hermione said, looking between the two of them. “Why won’t you talk out loud?”

“Sorry,” Merlin said.

From these four children, Merlin was able to teach telepathy to Jack and Harry, though Harry struggled with broadcasting his thoughts. Now, he looked frustrated that he was kept out of the conversation.

Merlin shivered in his wet robes as they approached the gate to the school grounds. Two Dementors floated over the gate, sucking the warmth out of the air. They were an extreme precaution which he wasn’t sure was going to be effective since Sirius Black snuck past them before. He couldn’t imagine that Dumbledore had invited them on his own accord.

“Is he going to faint again?” Jack asked and Merlin followed his eyes to the corner of the carriage where Harry shrank in his seat, eyeing the Dementors with worry.

_Please, don't tease him about it. It was a traumatic experience._

Jack defended with a shrug. _I'm not teasing. Genuine question._

Harry did not faint but did not look well either.

“Jack?” Hermione outstretched her hands. “Can I have Crookshanks back?”

He reluctantly returned the cat and she secured him in a basket. Without a cat in his arms, he returned to the apathetic expression he had throughout the train ride, avoiding looking at anyone while Harry stared daggers at him. It was a shame the boys didn’t get along. Harry never said it but Merlin suspected that the new animosity came from the rumors of what had happened last year. The most believable theory going around was that Elsa was picked up by the twins’ mother whom they previously established as dead. Merlin guessed that this offended Harry who truly was an orphan.

Merlin had a sneak peek at Jack’s mother and still could not shake the memory of her raw power. It didn’t feel like magic. It felt like a force of nature, ruthless and unforgiving. It gave him a new perspective of the life the twins had before coming to Hogwarts.

Seeing children with turbulent childhoods, Merlin was reminded of how lucky he was to have been raised by a warm, loving mother. With the Catha book he recently recovered, he’s been working on new skills, one of them allowed him to create illusions based on memories. Illusions so real, he would often get lost in them. Memories of his mother were his favorite to visit. Even when times were hard, even when they had nothing, she found a way to make him feel special and loved. He wished all children could have mothers like his.

He regretted treating Jack like a mystery to be cracked last year. The boy wasn’t a puzzle. He was just a troubled youth whose secrets carried pain. Merlin was determined to start anew this year and pay more attention to the needs of those around him. But this wasn’t limited to Jack. Harry needed him now even more urgently than before. There was a deranged killer on the loose and he could be heading for Hogwarts any day.

After the challenges last year, Merlin hoped for this year to be easy, but it wasn’t meant to be. Whether dealing with adolescent drama or murderous escaped convicts, Hogwarts was anything but boring.

* * *

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall reflected stormy weather outside but inside was dry and warm. Hogwarts Express had not arrived yet and so very few people were milling around, most of them were staff.

The first time Elsa came into this school, she was scared of her own mother, concerned about opinions, desperate to fit in. She was a pathetic little girl. This year she wouldn't make the same mistake. This year, she knew better. She had nothing to be afraid of and so she sat straight and poised in her seat, determined to show everyone her true self.

When the first wave of students walked through the massive double doors, a wave of excited chatter followed them.

”... it felt cold and just… depressing,” some Slytherin girl prattled on to a group. ”You can't possibly imagine the feeling if you've never experienced it.”

“I’m so glad it didn’t come onto our car,” another one said quickly.

Even though Elsa kept telling herself that witch rumors did not concern her, she couldn't help but be curious about what might have happened on the train that got them so excited. When they passed her, they quieted down, shot her a strange wide-eyed look and started whispering to each other as soon as they were a couple of steps away. Witches could be so petty.

Luna approached with other Ravenclaws and Elsa got up to greet her roommate and best friend.

”Elsa. I knew you'd come back. Your hair is lovely.”

Elsa's long white braid was in an elegant bun, which she secured with her ice pins. She had a flashback of how last year she was afraid to wear them, afraid of questions. She wasn't anymore. If they asked, she would tell them the truth - that she knew magic they didn’t.

While all of these wizards and witches were hardly worth an afterthought, she found that she couldn't think the same of Luna. She was the only person worth hanging out with here.

“Lovely necklace,” she praised the homemade pendant the girl wore. While Luna’s taste was eccentric, Elsa respected her freedom of expression.

“It’s a talisman, actually.” Luna touched the yellow pebble and stared off into the distance. “Madam Grimblehawk swears by it. It worked, you see. Dementors did not come onto my car. They were repelled by a charm that protects the wearer from evil creatures.” She took the pendant off with a sigh. “But it’s used up now. I’ll need to get a new one.”

Before Elsa could ask about the Dementors, she was interrupted by the unfortunately-familiar voice, ”Elsa Nix?”

Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, but instead of the usual sneer, he looked confused. She fully expected him to start taunting her like last year, making fun of her exotic look, but he just stood there, speechless. She didn't have time for wizards who couldn't even finish a sentence so she ignored him and glanced at the door. The only person she was looking forward to seeing today was her brother.

Malfoy stood in front of her for a while before he cleared his throat and spoke up in a shaky voice. ”Hello, Elsa.” He tried to smile. ”How about we forget about last year and start anew?”

”Is that what you think an apology is?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled nervously and scratched his chin. She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, bored with him already.

”Let’s go, Draco.” A Slytherin girl removed his annoying presence from Elsa's line of vision.

As more students filed in, she searched each face but did not find her brother among them. Merlin Ealdor was exchanging a greeting with that little boy, Colin Creevey, and she walked up to them, hoping Jack’s roommates would know where he was.

”Hello, have you seen my brother yet?”

Colin stared at her with huge eyes and an open mouth, unable to speak for some reason, so she turned to Merlin

”Hi, Elsa.” He looked around him and then shrugged. “He was here a moment ago.”

While the unease in her stomach increased, she tried to not show it.

“I will see you later, boys,” she said and sat back down with her fellow Ravenclaws.

“Elsa!” Padma Patil arrived and ran over with outstretched arms, ready to hug.

Elsa gave her an air-kiss to the cheek, already growing tired of the pointless greetings.

“You must tell me everything!” There was a glint in the girl’s brown eyes.

“About?”

By then, Professor Flitwick announced that he would be performing the Sorting Ceremony and Padma quieted down. Elsa hoped that it would save her from questions but the girl continued in a hushed tone.

“Where did you go?”

“In the summer? I went home. Where else would I go?”

Padma’s eyes opened wide. “So it’s true? Your mother is alive? I knew it.”

“Yes, she is.”

Luna said in an airy voice while watching the Sorting. “I wish my mom wasn’t dead. It’s a shame.”

Elsa was surprised why they all acted like this was news.

“Why did she pull you out of school early?” Padma asked. “Is the other rumor true too?”

They had to break to clap for a little girl who was sorted into their House and stopped when she sat down.

“What rumor?”

“You’re right. There are so many theories, I should be specific.” Then, she leaned in and whispered, “There is a rumor that you and your brother were fugitives on the run. Were you in trouble with the Ministry of Magic?”

Elsa chuckled, wondering if Jack came up with that idea. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

The table behind her roared in applause as the Gryffindors welcomed their new member. She searched their faces but did not see Jack among them yet. Where was he?

“Some people said you died!” Padma continued.

“What?”

“Susan Bones said that she saw what looked like your body being carried away from the castle.”

Elsa blinked at her in disbelief.

“There were so many theories as to why they covered up your death. You have no idea how creative some of them were.” Padma giggled, looking very happy to deliver the news of her rumored passing. “I really enjoyed the alien abduction theory though it was too absurd to be believable. The most popular theory said that you died in a freak magical accident. I had doubts though. The evidence wasn’t there.”

They clapped for another new member of their House while Elsa wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Why did they turn her leaving the school as such a sensation?

“I was afraid that you fell prey to the Red-Eared Imps conspiracy,” Luna said in a serious tone. “They’re known for stealing children and erasing everyone's memories of them so people wouldn’t even know they were missing someone.”

“Please,” Padma rolled her eyes. “That nonsense was invented by The Quibbler.”

“That is not true. There is overwhelming evidence of the Red-Eared Imps involvement in the disappearance of many children whom no one remembers.”

“If no one remembers, how do we know these children exist?”

Elsa’s head was spinning. What were they talking about? She tuned out the argument and checked the Gryffindor table again to no avail. Where would her brother have gone? Why would he miss the Welcome Feast? She was sure he would be as eager to see her as she was. She had informed McGonagall that she was coming back. She had to have relayed the news to Jack.

Elsa took a long breath, straightened her Ravenclaw tie and held her chin high. It was just like Mother warned her - Jack was only causing her unnecessary stress. Her life no longer revolved around her twin. She had important work ahead of her and he would only get in the way.

She was Elsa, daughter of Beira, not Elsa, sister of Jack.


	4. Peeves’ limerick

“Welcome back, Remus,” Minerva McGonagall said while giving him a firm handshake.

While he was now her coworker, not her student, and was even taller than her, he felt small under her calculating gaze. Would she ever stop intimidating him?

“Thank you, Minerva.”

Her first name sounded awkward on his tongue and he cringed internally, unable to stop himself from worrying that he was about to be scolded for being rude.

‘You’re a grown man, Remus,’ he reminded himself. ‘They’re your peers. Act like it.’

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and moved aside to allow the rest of the school staff to properly greet him. They each welcomed him warmly but he wondered if their attitudes would be as friendly if they all knew his secret.

Dumbledore told only a few key members of the staff, and so only Minerva McGonagall (he had to get used to saying her name), Madam Pomfrey and Severus Snape were privy to knowing about his condition. The Potions Master took his time walking over, and Remus tried the pleasantries, hoping he could start their relationship anew despite their complex history.

“Severus. It’s been years.”

Severus ignored the hand Remus stretched out and kept both of his clasped at his back.

“Lupin. How lucky for us to host someone with your,” he smacked his lips while judging Remus’ attire, “expertise.”

Remus smiled at the hostility. He did not expect miracles.

“I’m looking forward to the coming year.” He decided to try again. “Thank you for agreeing to brew the Potion.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” he hissed and walked away, his expensive black robes flying behind him.

Maybe he was fighting a lost cause, but Remus had to make this work. He was going to share this castle with Snape and did not want to have an enemy. Especially, an enemy that knew his secret.

After a very filling supper - oh, how he missed Hogwarts feasts - Minerva led the way out of the Great Hall to show him to his quarters.

Remus curiously regarded the dimly lit hallways. He knew this castle in and out, all of its secret exits and forgotten rooms. As they passed by a statue of a one-eyed witch, he had a flashback of sneaking out with his three friends through the hidden passage concealed behind it which led to Honeydukes shop in Hogsmeade. Those were the days of endless fun and joint mischief. Hogwarts made him into the man he was now.

Minerva showed him his office and lingered in the doorway, standing very stiff and dignified.

“The Headmaster assured me that the Wolfsbane Potion will be a sufficient measure to contain your,” she cleared her throat, “condition but I trust you will take extra precautions?”

She swallowed and he realized that being alone with him was making her uncomfortable. This saddened him. He was a beast only on the full moon. There was no need to fear him while he was human.

He smiled as genuinely as he could. “Yes. I can contain myself safely. There will be no risk to the students or anyone else.”

She nodded and took a long breath. “Very well, then. Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor.”

“Goodnight, Minerva.”

As much as he was disappointed by her reaction to learning his secret, he was used to it. Acceptance had to be earned. Maybe one day he could prove to her that Dumbledore’s trust in him was not misplaced.

He ran up the stairs to check where he was going to live for the next ten months. His quarters smelled of polished wood and freshly-turned linen. It was a spacious room with a large comfy bed and an armchair by a small window where he could picture himself sitting down with a good book. The cozy fireplace at the center of the room was not lit at the moment. His beat-up suitcase was placed near a wooden cupboard and he supposed he might as well unpack.

It took him less than five minutes. No matter how he spread it, the cupboard was near-empty. He closed it to hide the reminder of his social standing from view and pulled out the only two memorabilia he brought with him: two picture frames. Both, a source of warm memories and sad reflections.

One picture was of his parents, taken on their twentieth anniversary. His mother had passed a couple of years ago and he missed her terribly. His father was on his own now. He was so proud when he heard of the new job. Remus would do anything to make him happy.

The second frame held a picture of him with his childhood friends: James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black. The teenage four of them goofed around in the photo, messing up each other’s hair and playfully shoving each other. He loved this photo even though it brought him even more sadness than seeing his late mother. James and Peter were dead as well while Sirius…

He sighed, gently touching the animated picture.

Sirius.

He pulled out a copy of Daily Prophet from his pocket where on the front page was an animated picture of Sirius in prisoner garb, a look of madness in his eyes as he screamed. It was taken on the day when he was sent to Azkaban for killing a dozen Muggles along with Peter. The things they accused him of...

Though only a few years separated the two pictures, it seemed that they were not pictures of the same person, as if they were snippets of alternate realities. Or maybe Remus was a fool, still clinging to hope that none of it really happened.

“What happened to you, Sirius?”

Sirius’ muted scream did not answer any questions. Remus always hoped that he would get to ask him in person why he betrayed the location of James and his family to Voldemort and why he killed Peter, but everyone said that no one survived Azkaban. Being around Dementors every day made people lose their minds. No one lasted more than a couple of years in Azkaban and yet Sirius survived twelve and had enough mind left to escape. Would Remus get to ask the question after all?

He decided to stop thinking those depressing thoughts and stuck the picture with the newspaper into the drawer, leaving out only the picture of his parents. He didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea as to why he still held onto a picture of a demented convict.

It was a new day, and he was a new Remus. He got a chance to make something of himself at Hogwarts again. He wasn’t going to waste it on melancholy.

He wished he could start teaching already. He had a lot of doubts when Dumbledore offered him the job but the more he thought about it, the more ideas he had for what he could teach these children. He wanted this. He could be good at this.

He enjoyed the comfort of his spacious room but did not last even five minutes alone. The castle was full of people and it wasn't too late yet. Surely, he could find someone to talk to.

He ventured out into the hallway, feeling giddy like a child, and had to remind himself that he wanted to be taken seriously.

’You're not a student anymore, Remus. Behave yourself.’

Argus Filch walked down the hall, baby-talking to his haggard cat. How was that cat still alive?

”Hello, Argus,” Remus said with a smile, unable to forget how he used to constantly prank the old Caretaker with his friends.

Mrs. Norris hissed and arched her back.

”What's wrong, my sweet?” Filch addressed his ancient cat, ignoring the greeting.

”Hello to you too,” Remus said, bending down to her.

She growled, sensing his wolf and he resisted the urge to growl back. He was supposed to behave. He resumed the stroll, silently chuckling to himself. It felt great to be back for another adventure in the ancient castle.

He heard voices reverberating through the stone corridor and followed them, hoping to find some company.

”Go away!”

”There’s wee students awaiting a-pranking!”

”I'm not in the mood.”

The source of the squabble was the boy Remus met on the train who was sitting on the bottom step of a stone staircase and the resident Poltergeist, Peeves, hovering in front of him with a wicked grin on his face, and who now broke into an off-pitch song.

“When Dementors came to town  
They gave you an ugly frown  
But when all is gray  
Peevsies has a way  
To turn gray frowns upside-down.”

“Stop it, Peeves. Not today.”

Peeves flew down towards the boy and Remus reacted instantly, sending a jinx at the spirit to drive him away.

Jack shot up, looking after the shrieking Poltergeist and then turned on Remus.

”What’d you do that for?”

Remus’ smile faltered. ”He was harassing you.”

”He just wanted to play! Don't punish him for being himself!”

Remus turned his wand between his fingers, unsure of the proper response. He's never encountered anyone who wanted to defend the troublesome spirit.

Jack huffed, shifted on his feet and ran a hand through his hair. ”I'm sorry that I snapped, Professor.”

He dropped his head and raised only his eyes, looking like the most innocent creature on earth. It took a moment for Remus to understand why he was apologizing.

”It’s fine, Jack. I'm not one of those teachers that will punish you for speaking your mind.”

The boy smiled weakly, sat back down on the stairs and picked up the old book he dropped earlier. Remus worried why he was reading here in the poorly-lit staircase. From what he overheard on the train, the boy did not get along with some of the students, but surely, he had to have other friends to catch up with on the first day back?

As if his worries about the boy's state of mind were not enough, his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a growling stomach. He couldn't leave him here like this.

”I left the feast before dessert was served and now I regret,” Remus said. ”Do you think there's any left?”

The boy shrugged. ”Maybe.”

”How about we find out?”

Jack’s stomach growled again and he grimaced, sighed, pocketed his book and stood up. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

As they walked side by side, Remus’ curiosity peaked even more. The boy had a unique scent. It wasn't a smell of soap or any plant. It didn't seem to match the small figure of the boy whose head barely reached Remus’ shoulder. It reminded him of places, events, not people, and he couldn't figure out the connection.

A memory flashed in his mind of a hiking trip he took with his father which they had to cut short because of dreadful weather. _How do you know that the storm is coming?_ his father asked. Smells were difficult to explain to someone who wasn’t a werewolf. The air just smelled different.

When they arrived at the Great Hall, Jack paused to scan the faces of the remaining students, then proceeded to the Gryffindor table, eyes locked on a plate of sweet buns.

”I was a Gryffindor too,” Remus said, sitting next to the boy.

It felt so much more natural to sit here than at the staff table. He picked a luscious apple and bit into it, enjoying the refreshing crunch. He was back. It had finally sunk it.

Jack swallowed. ”What subject will you teach, Professor?”

”Defense Against The Dark Arts.”

Jack smiled lopsidedly. ”I knew it.”

“Do you like the subject?”

“Will you require that we read your books?” Jack took a large bite.

“Do you mean the textbook?”

Jack swallowed. “Professor Lockhart wrote all these books of his adventures but some of it sounded… made up.”

Jack glanced at him, checking how the accusation would be received. Remus heard of Lockhart and his books. He even read Wanderings with Werewolves and was not impressed by the flowery rewrite of common misconceptions, superstitions, and prejudice of someone who had obviously never met a werewolf. He was glad that the boy recognized that biased fraud.

“Just the textbook, but I hope to have more practical than theoretical lessons with you.”

“Cool.”

The enchanted ceiling showed that the storm outside had calmed down but swiftly-moving clouds obscured the view of the starry sky as well as the moon. Though he didn’t see it, he felt what phase it was in and how much time he had before it started affecting him. He wasn’t completely recovered after the last transformation and hoped that the Wolfsbane Potion would help with the future ones.

With a full belly, Jack instantly livened up, showing his playful personality and his scent changed, now resembling a spring breeze. Remus had never known anyone whose scent could shift so often, and though he didn’t know what it meant, he was now sure that this strange boy wasn’t human.

He instantly remembered to his first year at Hogwarts, how terrified he was of people finding out about his curse. Just like he couldn’t hide his scars, this boy couldn’t hide his unnatural hair. Remus told his friends that he was attacked by an enchanted rose bush. What lie did this boy hide behind?

He thought that this teaching job would be exciting because he would get to know Harry Potter, son of his late friend, James, but now found that there were other interesting students here, other children who would be a pleasure to get to know. Who else could be hiding among them?

Remus dropped the boy off at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, said ”Goodnight, ” and started making his way back down. While waiting for a moving staircase to shift in his direction, he overhead the portrait of the Fat Lady ask in a shrill voice, ”Password?” Jack did not respond.

Remus wanted to hit himself over the head. He couldn't believe he nearly left the boy like this. Of course, Jack wouldn't know the password - he wasn't at the feast when they distributed it. He turned around, determined to take the boy to McGonagall’s office when the portrait opened despite no password given. The raven-haired boy from the train came out of the hole and pulled Jack inside while complaining, ”Seriously, where were you? I was worried!”

The portrait entrance swung shut and Remus gaped at the Fat Lady in shock. How did Jack's friend know that he was waiting outside at this moment?

”What?” Fat Lady asked, noticing him and he got on the staircase before it moved again.

While walking back to his quarters, he thought over different possibilities and none seemed plausible. By the time he got in bed, he was grinning. Hogwarts welcomed him back with a mystery he would fully enjoy cracking.

* * *

Once back in the dorm, Colin shut the door behind them and sat down next to Jack.

“Hi,” he said, bouncing on the bed. “I barely got to say hello to you and you disappeared. You’re not getting away now.”

Jack looked between his roommates in bewilderment. Were they playing a joke on him? “What?”

“Your sister was at the Welcome Feast,” Merlin said, “looking for you. Were you hiding from her? Is that why you disappeared?”

Jack shrugged with one shoulder, wondering why they cared.

“That’s what I thought,” Merlin mumbled to himself and sagged down on his own bed.

“You never told us what happened,” Colin cut in, keeping Jack’s arm in a gentle but secure lock. “You left us in the dark like everyone else and we let you because we could see that you needed space because we are your friends, but then, you got so quiet. It’s scary how you changed. I know that it’s all because of whatever happened with Elsa, you never told us what that was, and now, she came back and everyone is asking us questions since you’re nowhere to be found and we know nothing and...”

Jack stared at a dark spot on the floor, focusing on keeping the forbidden chest in his mind from opening. He forced himself to think of something else to tune out Colin’s babble. The fairy colony came to mind. He should visit them. If he brought his father with him, they would probably faint from excitement and throw a party in their honor. What type of music did fairies listen to? Did they create instruments out of forest materials? Or maybe they had some kind of magical instruments? He never found out what type of magic they could do. He imagined an orchestra of hundreds of fairies, using luminescent little bells, whose music created magical jingle in his ears, tickling his brain in all the right places.

A loud snap made him flinch. He blinked, coming back to reality, realizing that someone had just clapped in front of his face.

“Can’t even talk to you,” Colin grumbled.

“Are you done?”

“If you had listened, you’d hear that we’re worried about you.” Merlin got up and unravelled his scarf in jerky movements.

Colin did not release Jack’s arm yet. “Merlin, keep your scarf on. We’re not done.”

There was such determination in the small boy’s eyes that Merlin obeyed and sat back down.

“I’m sick of this, Jack,” Colin exploded. “All year you lied to us - lie after lie. Do you know what it felt like to find out from _Ravenclaws_ that you lived with McGonagall? Ravenclaws knew all along because Elsa told _her_ friends. Why keep something so simple from us?”

Jack shrugged and tried to reclaim his arm. “It wasn’t a secret. It just never came up.”

“Yes, it did!” Colin pulled on his arm while Jack struggled against the hold, “but you always found a way to avoid the subject like with everything else. And you lied about so much stuff. Important stuff! I feel like I know nothing real about you. Are we your friends or not?”

For such a small boy, his grip was strong enough to hurt. “Let go!”

Colin reluctantly released him and his shoulders sagged.

Jack wished he had not come back to the dorm. He could’ve stayed at the feast longer. Mr. Lupin was a much better company than these two.

“I give up.” Colin grabbed his pajamas and disappeared to the bathrooms, slamming the door after himself.

Jack stared at a floor stain in silence, awaiting Merlin’s interrogation but it never came. When he finally looked up at him, he found his friend equally lost in thought, wrapping his crimson and gold Gryffindor scarf around his fingers and unwrapping it anew. His expression was sad and tired. He gave up on Jack as well, didn’t he. Was he losing his friends? They never pushed him for answers this hard before. Hearing these complaints come from Colin somehow made it worse. He didn’t know it mattered so much, they would write him off.

Merlin noticed him looking and tried to smile. “Sorry if it felt like we ganged up on you. We thought that maybe an intervention would work but you don’t want to be helped, do you?”

“Helped with what?”

Merlin nodded to himself and put his rolled-up scarf away. “Exactly.”

The wind howled outside while the stormy thoughts swirled in Jack’s head. He couldn’t lose them. He had no one else.

As they unpacked and got ready for bed, no one said a word but Colin was not shy to show his anger, stomping around and dropping items loudly. Jack flinched every time the boy opened and closed his coffer to put his things into the cupboard. Merlin, on the other hand, used magic to make his possessions float and put themselves away, dropping all pretense, not caring that he was showing how effortless magic was to him. Jack was a fraud next to them. Everything Colin accused him of was right. He lied and deceived but he didn’t know what else to do. The truth was… difficult.

“You _are_ my friends,” Jack said weakly, forcing his lips to move. “I just don’t know… how…”

The wooden floor squeaked under his feet as he shifted from leg to leg. Why was speaking so hard? Some people had no problem saying everything they thought. Colin was an open book, he had no filter. Jack always knew what he thought or what his mood was. Merlin was more mysterious but when needed, he could be very eloquent. It would’ve been easier to be mute. He would have had an excuse.

“It’s hard to let go of the lie, isn’t it?” Merlin murmured - he would know.

Jack huffed. “Why am I the only one that’s being hounded?”

He looked right at Merlin when he said that and a sly smile entered his friend’s face as they both wondered whose secrets were bigger.

Colin raised himself on his elbows. “Are you two about to say something interesting or just planning more half-truths? Because it’s really tiring from my vantage point. I want to hear something real for a change and I want to hear it from you, not hearsay from Ravenclaws.”

Jack sat on his bed, wishing he had a comfort item to hold onto the way Merlin always used his scarf. He settled for a pillow which he hugged to his belly. “What do you want to know?”

Colin immediately scrambled out of his bed, dropping his covers on the floor, and in a couple of bounds, jumped over startled Merlin and landed at the edge of his bed, sitting with his hands on his knees, his eyes wide in anticipation.

“Just tell us what happened with Elsa! You must be dying to tell us everything, aren’t you? I would be if I was keeping a secret. And you can tell us everything. We’ll listen, and we’re your friends, and we won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want us to, and everyone needs friends. Use us!”

Jack was encouraged by the return of Colin’s good mood, it was hard to resist his enthusiasm, but it didn’t help him get the right words out. “She…” the forbidden chest in his mind vibrated but he kept it in place, refusing to let it out. Just stick to the hard truth. The easy one, at least. “She spent the summer with our mother.”

“The one you said was dead?”

Merlin got over his earlier surprise and was now sitting at full attention. “She’s the young woman we saw that day at the entrance of the Great Hall.”

Jack nodded to confirm and Colin let out a quiet “Wow.” Did her inhuman qualities show? He hoped they wouldn’t ask him what she was. Even he didn’t know.

“Why didn’t you go home with them?”

Jack shrugged. If only Colin knew what “home” was, he would never question Jack’s insistence to stay. But humans didn’t live in mountain caves nor did they have cannibalistic hags for neighbors. Human mothers didn’t transition from youth to old age within the period of a few months during which their mood would shift from indifference to cold cruelty. If he told them why he didn’t want to return home, they would learn the truth he hoped to bury forever.

He grudgingly glared at Merlin. Why didn’t Colin demand answers from him? They all knew that he was hiding something big and now he sat there innocently, unquestioned.

“Tell us more!” Colin prodded. “It’s a brand new year. Let’s not start it with secrets.”

Jack narrowed his eyes on Merlin. “How about we start with you?”

Colin turned to Merlin and bounced in his seat. “Oh, this is so exciting. I don’t have any interesting secrets to share. I wish I had. What are you hiding, Merlin?”

Merlin suddenly went speechless and Jack smirked. “I didn’t think so. When he’s ready to share, I will.”

He used this moment to get in his bed, wanting to put this evening behind him.

Colin whined, “Just say whatever it is so he tells us. Come on!”

It was a couple more minutes before Merlin spoke again. “How about we do a theory exchange? I’ll tell you what I think and you just answer if it’s true or if I’m wrong. You do the same.”

Jack wasn’t sure if it was going to be an even exchange. He honestly didn’t have any theories. He only knew that Merlin was much more than he appeared but what it could mean completely escaped him.

“I wish I had more time to come up with better theories.”

“Feel free to take as long as you want.” Merlin put a hand over his heart. “I promise I will answer truthfully.”

“Is there a limit to the number of theories?” Colin asked and Merlin chuckled. “Because I want to play too.”

“I guess not.”

Did Colin know something Jack didn’t?

“Can I start?” Merlin said and Jack nodded, biting his lip, still unsure if he wanted to play this game. “The runaway theory is true. Elsa and you ran away from home - from your mother.”

“Yes.” Jack knew what Merlin wanted to ask next: why, but the rules were rules. He had to have a theory. “My turn. You don’t really have to go to Hogwarts. To learn, I mean. You already know all this.”

“It’s true.” Merlin didn’t even flinch as he answered. This answer held implications. Why would a powerful young wizard waste his time in a school?

“Are you hiding here? Is that why...”

Merlin shook his head. “No. But you are… you _were_ using this school as a hideout until your mother found you.”

Jack looked up at the ceiling. “I wonder if she knew for a while that we were here, just waited until spring…”

He wished he could finish the thought out loud: she didn’t want to show up looking like an old lady. She was vain like that - wanted to be admired, and she sure had made an impression. Colin’s “wow” was not the only exclamation Jack heard.

After a beat, Merlin smacked his lips. “This has been bugging me for a while, even before I taught you telepathy, Elsa and you, it seemed like you could hear each other.”

The chest inside his mind glowed with power and Jack imagined sitting down on it to keep it down. “We could feel each other,” he whispered.

He had not tried to use this connection yet and worried if the time spent apart could have severed their bond. But he did not want to test it now. He buried this thought into the chest as well. He didn’t care if the connection still worked.

“Could?”

As this was not a theory, Jack felt no reason to answer. He turned on his side, away from both of them, ready to start thinking about anything else.

Colin whispered, “Let’s ask him about, you know.”

Jack thought they covered all the rumors already. What else could they want? He closed his eyes, trying to put those thoughts aside. Maybe it was better that some of the secrets were out of the way. The rumors were tiring. He was glad that Merlin came up with that game. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve been able to get all of this out on his own.

“I’ll ask him some other time,” Merlin whispered back and their beds creaked as they settled down for the night, the last theory temporarily shelved like embers awaiting a gust of wind.


	5. The secret recipe

The next morning, Merlin didn’t waste time. He gave his friends a quick explanation that he would see them in class, snatched a sandwich in the Great Hall, taking it to go, and was at the Headmaster’s office in minutes.

Dumbledore yelled from his quarters upstairs, “I’ll be down in a jiffy.”

Merlin settled to wait with Fawkes, whose brilliant red feathers glimmered in the morning sun and offered him a piece of ham from his sandwich. Instead of taking the small piece, the Phoenix snatched the rest of the sandwich out of his hand.

“Fawkes!”

Dumbledore chuckled while coming down the stairs. “He hadn’t had breakfast yet.”

Merlin shook his finger at the bird and popped the little ham into his mouth. “Lesson learned. I’ve got classes so let’s be brief. Dementors went right after Harry, Albus. They didn't attack anyone else.”

”I'm aware.” Dumbledore smoothed out his beard and clipped it to his floor-length baby-blue robe. ”Until they catch Sirius Black, it's going to be a challenging year.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t release any of his Death Eater friends when he broke out,” Merlin added, dropping into a chair. “Why escape alone? Does he have someone helping him?”

Dumbledore stroke the bird on the head and got an affectionate squawk in return. Merlin was tempted to dive into his head. The old wizard was holding something back.

“Do you suspect someone already?”

Dumbledore unfolded his half-moon spectacles and cleaned them with a small cloth but remained silent.

“Won’t it be better if I know whatever you know so I can be prepared?”

The old wizard put the spectacles on his nose and adjusted them before he looked up at Merlin. “Not everything is what it seems. There are things I suspect but don’t know the meaning of. I’ll pass the information along when I know more.”

Merlin sighed. Speaking to him was as frustrating as talking to Kilgharrah. He missed that old riddle-loving dragon. “Dementors make everything more difficult. I think they’re drawn to Harry, to his curse.”

Dumbledore shot him a piercing gaze but did not comment. They never discussed the matter of Harry’s scar. He wondered what the old wizard thought about it.

”The Ministry assured me that Dementors will remain outside the school grounds.”

Merlin was tempted to laugh but settled for a long sigh. ”They think they can control them?”

”They are absolutely sure. I wish I was as certain.”

”These creatures have no loyalties. They're following instructions and guarding Azkaban only because it suits them. The moment they find a better source of souls to torment, they will turn,” he snapped his fingers, ”just like that. I bet Voldemort could offer them more souls than Azkaban.”

”I know.”

”I hate those things.”

Merlin shivered, remembering the cold they emanated. He didn't know their origins. He never encountered them in his youth. Some time in the past millennium someone created or summoned them from some dark realm, and since then, they’ve been impossible to extinguish, spawning naturally as if they were part of the earth’s magic now.

”We all do, but right now they’re helping so we must cooperate with the Ministry. Sirius Black must be captured.”

”He found a way to sneak past them once, he could do it again.”

”You're not telling me anything I don't already know,” Dumbledore snapped.

Merlin shut up. He was glad that Dumbledore agreed but was the dismissive tone necessary? He couldn't stay quiet for long. ”In that case, I should go. You already know _everything_.”

”Don't be melodramatic.”

Merlin resisted an urge to throw something. Instead, he turned on his heel and left without a word, closing the door behind himself with magic - careful not to slam it.

When was he ever melodramatic? He was completely… What did the kids nowadays say? Oh, _chill_. He was chill.

A very chilled Merlin swaggered into the gloomy Potions classroom and took an empty seat next to a Slytherin boy who stared at him in disbelief. Snape glared at him from the back of the class and approached swiftly, his black robes billowing behind him. “Ealdor.”

He glanced sideways at the Slytherin boy who eagerly awaited to see abuse Merlin would get for being late.

“How thoughtful of you to join us,” Snape hissed quietly, trying to maintain the charade.

”I was speaking with the Headmaster.”

“Splendid. Now you will speak with me after class,” he raised his eyebrows and added, ”about your punishment.”

Merlin resisted an urge to roll his eyes and instead tried to be on his best behavior. “Yes, Professor.”

Snape turned suddenly, making his robes fly and walked around the classroom in long strides, giving out tips or critiques.

‘There’s your melodramatic exit, Albus,’ Merlin thought bitterly.

Merlin had no idea what potion the class was working on and his Slytherin partner turned away, making it clear that he wasn’t going to help, so he decided to brew whatever he was in the mood for right now. He deliberated his options while checking available ingredients and finally settled on something that would cure his thirst.

He quietly hummed to himself while brewing. It was a relaxing past-time when he no longer had to worry about appearing to need instructions. Snape already knew who he was, so there was no need to fake the student routine for him. He would put on a show for the students, show up to class and brew something, but couldn’t care less if he was going to get a failing grade for using the wrong recipe. His recipes were better anyway.

Snape was making another pass by their table, paused and sniffed the air. “What in the blasted screwts are you cooking here?”

Merlin smirked in response but kept his mouth shut. It was a surprise.

The Slytherin boy looked between the two of them and Snape tightened his lips, not wanting to lose the authoritative image he worked so hard on maintaining, but also hesitant to scold Merlin. Last year, Merlin showed him how capable he was of getting even. He seemed to have remembered the lesson well.

“You should lower the temperature, Roy,” Snape instructed the boy and moved on, shooting a last glare at Merlin.

At the end of the lesson, after each student brought up a sample of the potion for grading, Merlin waited until the class emptied, used a quick spell to cool down the mixture and filled a glass with his brew. He took a long swig and greedily drank. It came out wonderful, quenched his thirst and tickled his taste buds.

Snape glared at him from his desk and was determined to not be the first one to get up. As a blissful warmth spread in his stomach, Merlin had a moment of reconsideration. He poured the brew into a fresh glass and carried his peace offering over to the Greasy Git.

”Enjoy,” he said with a wink. ”I don't think I can handle more while in this body.”

Snape sniffed it and peered into it suspiciously. ”Is this…?”

Merlin chuckled. ”I didn't add anything extra, I swear.”

The Potions Master stared at the glass as if expecting a giant flesh-eating monster to emerge from it.

”You don't trust me? Oh, well.”

Merlin grabbed his things and left the classroom. He supposed he would never learn if Snape was brave enough to taste his brew.

* * *

It was all Jack’s fault.

Another person stopped Elsa in the hallway to ask if she was all right. She has been gracious and polite so far but her patience was wearing thin.

“I am feeling excellent. Thank you for asking.”

When she got back to the Ravenclaw Common Room yesterday, a curious circle formed around her and so she informed them that there was really nothing exceptional happening to put those ridiculous rumors to rest. Unfortunately, the news did not spread fast enough and on the first day of school, students from other Houses continued approaching her, asking the same question.

Why did Jack make such a big mystery out of it? If he had told them the truth last year, it would have been old news - no one would care.

She held her chin high and did not show how much this aggravated her. She had classes to look forward to. There were spells to learn and theory to explore. Mother was most impressed with the skills Elsa gained in just a few months and last year she was distracted with the ridiculous research to find her father. This year, she would focus on the research that really mattered.

She was eager to learn and maximize her time at the school, but it seemed that on the first day, every teacher wanted to take it easy. Transfiguration was next - with Gryffindors. Jack wouldn’t be able to avoid her anymore. Several times throughout the morning, Elsa thought she saw her brother, just for him to disappear like a phantom. It was time to confront him on this immature behavior.

Her irritation melted when she saw his familiar figure, sitting not at the table they always took last year but on the other side of the class, next to a Gryffindor girl. While the girl tried to flirt at him, he was pretending to read the textbook. Elsa approached, glared at the girl until she fled and took her seat.

He let his hair grow a little and had to push his bangs behind his ear. It suited him.

“Hi,” she said pleasantly and he mumbled something in response, put his elbow on the table and supported his head as if he tried to build a wall between them.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

It was a difficult summer. The comforting peaceful quiet of the caves wasn’t the same without him. She would often wake up in the night and glance in the direction of his bed, but it was empty and the room was silent. She even missed his terrible puns and cheesy humor. She expected that he would give her one of those bone-crushing extended hugs he was famous for when they saw each other, but instead, he was giving her the cold shoulder. Did he not miss her as she missed him?

“Jack, why won’t you talk to me?”

Professor McGonagall came in, gave Elsa a warm smile and looked right at her when saying, “Welcome back” to the students. Then, her eyes fell on Jack, she sighed and looked back at the class as if she was used to his moods.

_Are you angry because I left?_ Elsa thought at him. When he didn’t respond, she continued, _I had to leave. I was losing control of my ice magic. I was dangerous. Mother was the only person who could teach me how to stay in control._

He shifted in his seat.

_You were wrong,_ he thought back at her.

_What was I wrong about?_

_I am the only person who is like you, Elsa. I could have helped you if you only told me what was wrong._

He turned back to the book but she noticed that he had not turned the page yet.

She gently touched his arm. _Your magic is not deadly like mine. I needed Mother for this._

He shrugged her off. _You made your choice._

Did he really think the choice was him or Mother? The real choice was to stay and risk killing someone or go back and learn how to control it. And it was the right choice. She had learned more than control from Mother. This summer was a breakthrough.

_There’s something important I have to tell you about Mother._

He pretended to listen to what McGonagall was saying.

_She isn’t the monster you’ve always thought her to be. When you learn the truth, you’ll be amazed at what she is - at what we are._

She thought her words would spark his curiosity, the truth was mind-blowing, and yet he was still ignoring her.

_There is a word for beings like us, Jack. Don’t you want to know what it is?_

_I’m trying to listen to the lecture._

He took out a quill and started making notes, completely ignoring the carrot she was dangling in front of his nose. But she was sure that she had planted a seed of interest in his mind. She was done begging for his attention. Next time, he would come to her, demanding answers, and she could turn the tables.

McGonagall lingered by their table at the end of the lesson and waited until the other students had left.

“Have you two caught up yet?”

Jack was looking at the floor but Elsa faced the tall witch. “Thank you for arranging for my things. I greatly appreciate it.”

McGonagall scrutinized them through her glasses. “I’m glad you find it all in order. I was surprised the two of you did not want to correspond over the summer.”

She was looking at Jack who was kicking the floor, looking bored.

Elsa answered. “Unfortunately, our home is unreachable to owls.”

The witch pursed her lips, looking between them. She sighed and awkwardly patted them both on their shoulders. “I’ll let you be. Go on. You have a lot to catch up on.”

Jack took this as his cue to leave and Elsa followed him but he disappeared in the hallway, clearly not wanting to socialize. Elsa refused to let it bother her. She had important tasks ahead of her. He would only slow her down.

When she was on her way to the library, she heard the slapping of feet on the stone floor.

“Elsa!” It turned out to be Colin Creevey who smiled at her sheepishly. “Are you going to the library? Me too! I want to get started with my homework and I think the library is the best place to study, don’t you think? And your bag looks heavy. I could carry it for you.”

She wasn’t sure where he had come from but figured, why not. He sagged under the weight but smiled in satisfaction while walking her there.

When they arrived, she pointed at an empty table. “Leave my things here. I need to find some books.”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting.”

When she came back with a few heavy volumes, he pulled a chair out for her, grinning widely.

“You’re researching Hogwarts Founders? I think that the castle’s history is fascinating. It holds so many secrets. I bet there are loads more to uncover. Wouldn’t it be cool to stumble upon one of them? I’d love an adventure like that.”

“Colin?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s easier to study in silence.”

“Sorry,” he put his palms up. “I tend to talk too much, don’t I? I can’t help myself, the words just come out.”

She shot him an annoyed look and he imitated closing a zipper on his mouth.

As she settled herself and he sat back down to pretend to read his Charms book, she noticed that he kept glancing at her and blushed when she caught him. This gave her an idea. She sat next to him and he grinned, looking like he wanted to start talking again but kept his loose tongue under control. He was going to be too easy but it would also not draw any suspicions since he was already smitten with her.

She locked eyes with him and kept control just the way Mother taught her. She had not tried this on a human yet, a human wizard at that, but she felt that little string of his mind immediately and took hold of it. Maybe he was as weak-willed as Hags or maybe it was because of his infatuation, but he was at her command.

“Colin, you will be a perfect study partner.”

He grinned goofily and nodded repeatedly. “The best.”

She looked into the obedient chocolate eyes of the boy and began her practice.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did Merlin brew? I'm not telling. Feel free to use your imagination. Do you think Snape drank it?  
> As to Elsa, hmmm… If you had the power to control others, what would you do with it?
> 
> Are you in the mood for a Christmas story? Check out Jack Frost and the Spirit of Christmas - just posted it the other day.
> 
> I’m still looking for a beta. Anyone interested?


	6. Bad omens

 

Merlin wished he had brewed more of his special recipe. The student routine was painful the second time around. McGonagall was watching his every move so he tried to be on his best behavior. Why didn’t Dumbledore tell her already? She was a Deputy Headmistress; she had every right to be suspicious of Merlin. He would be surprised if no one was.

Now that the initial drama with Jack and Colin had calmed down, Harry’s trio took over most of his spare time. As if worrying about Sirius Black wasn’t enough, Harry’s Divination teacher predicted the boy’s death during the first lesson. While Harry did not take it very seriously, his friends had a series of arguments about it. Ron was terrified of the Grim - a bad omen Harry reported seeing, while Hermione insisted it was a silly superstition.

They looked to Merlin to mediate.

“Bad omens are more than just superstitions,” he told them, “but seeing a black dog doesn’t necessarily foreshadow death. It could just be an ordinary dog.”

Hermione very smugly interpreted his response as a backup to her claim that Professor Trelawney was a nutcase but Ron didn’t look convinced.

Bad omen or not, it wasn’t a smooth start of the year. Malfoy switched from making fun of Harry’s fainting on the train to now working with his father to get Hagrid fired. Though Merlin didn’t like the resulting trouble to Hagrid, he would have liked to see the arrogant bully get pummelled by an offended Hippogriff - again - just to see karma in action. Any more of this boy’s antics and he might have to drop his best-behavior.

And there was Hermione. Merlin was fairly certain that she possessed a powerful magical object though she refused to answer questions about it. He wasn’t sure how hard he should push her for answers. He didn’t like uncertainties around someone who was this close to Harry, but at the same time, she was a very level-headed witch. He had to trust that she wouldn’t use magic she didn’t understand, but just in case, he kept an eye on her.

And then, something happened which flipped his daily routine on its head.

_Merlin._

He was woken one night by a deep raspy voice that sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. The castle was still sleeping and the sky was dark gray. He waited for it to return, but his head was quiet. Maybe he imagined it.

Another weekday meant more classes, and Merlin tagged along with his friends, the possibility of hearing the mysterious voice the only interesting thing on his schedule.

That was until he arrived at the Great Hall which was filled with excited chatter. Everyone pointed at the ceiling, which instead of reflecting the sky above as always, was a plain dark stone, rising in tall arches. The students kept glancing upwards as if the illusion would be back upon the second or third glance.

“What do you think happened?” Colin asked.

Merlin shrugged. “Enchantments wear out over time. It’s time for Dumbledore to renew this one.”

During breakfast, he heard the voice again. It sounded urgent, like a call for help and he wished it had said more than just his name so he would have a clue of who it was.

When the time came for his Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Merlin shelved thoughts of the voice to the back of his mind to pay better attention to his teacher. There was something about Professor Lupin he couldn’t put his finger on and he wanted to solve that mystery.

“A couple of lessons from now, we will have a practical demonstration, but before we get to the fun part, I want to ensure you understand what you will be facing.”

There was something about him, his mannerisms, the affliction in his voice, it jogged Merlin’s memory of facing someone like him, and he tried to dig inside his cluttered mind for the encounter. It wasn’t very long ago, maybe a couple of centuries past. He was hunting down a killer and found someone else instead. But who was it?

Lupin was suddenly in front of him. “Boggarts take on the shape of your greatest fear. And how do we combat fear, Merlin?”

“With laughter.”

“Correct. Two points to Gryffindor. Before I let you face a Boggart, I need you to think hard on what your greatest fear is.”

Lupin glanced out the window where a waning moon peeked from behind a cloud. The angle of light accentuated his scars, further tickling Merlin’s memory. They were cursed scars, he was sure of that, but cursed with what?

Lupin turned back and smiled at the class. “The first step is to be aware of your own fears. Colin, what do you fear?”

Colin smiled sheepishly. “Cats.”

Few people laughed while Colin looked to the ground.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Lupin said. “I’m not a fan either. What would you turn a cat into so it would no longer be scary?”

Colin thought for a moment, his eyes searched for inspiration and he broke into a grin. “A puppy! A happy puppy.”

“Excellent.” Lupin returned his smile and moved around the class, asking the same question and helping students figure it out.

He walked up to a tall girl, sitting close by. “Susan, what are you most afraid of?”

“Snakes,” she said while wincing, and a few students agreed.

“What would you turn a snake into?”

Someone offered, “Turn it into a belt?”

Susan shivered. “But then I’d still think it was a snake disguised as a belt.”

“Good thinking, Susan. The answer has to be something humorous.”

He faced Merlin. “How would you turn a snake into something funny, Merlin?”

“It’d be hilarious as a stair-climbing rainbow-colored slinky spring.”

Lupin looked confused so Merlin added, “It’s a Muggle toy.”

“That would work. Your turn, what is your greatest fear?”

The truth would require some explanations so Merlin settled for something simpler. “Goblins.”

Lupin raised his eyebrows. “That’s peculiar. May I ask why?”

Merlin shrugged. “They can possess your body and pretend to be you.”

“I don’t think goblins would like hearing that you accuse them of such transgression.”

Modern goblins had reached some levels of civility and found their place in the wizarding community, allowing their abilities to become myths, but Merlin did not forget what they were capable of. One did a number on Gaius. It was funny to witness his mentor turned into a prankster responsible for the royal family’s bad case of gas, true, but Merlin would never want to be in his shoes.

“Is that really your greatest fear?”

Merlin shrugged in response.

Lupin smiled, playing along. “What would you have a goblin turn into so it would become funny?”

Merlin looked up sideways and smirked when he got an idea. “Put a tutu and ballet shoes on him and make him dance the Swan Lake.”

The bell rang, announcing the end of class, and Lupin shouted over their heads, “Your homework is to think well on what your greatest fear is, and what it would take to turn that fear into something laugh-worthy.” His eyes found Merlin. “And be honest with yourself.”

During Herbology, Merlin stood next to Jack and Colin, wondering how he could excuse himself. Maybe if everyone around him would stop talking, he would hear that voice again.

“So what’s your greatest fear, Jack?” Colin asked. “You already know my ridiculous fear. You probably think it’s weird. I don’t know why but cats just freak me out. What’s yours? I won’t tell anyone.”

Jack glanced at where his sister stood not far away. “There is no way to make it funny.”

She noticed him looking and he turned away, suddenly fascinated with an ordinary grass plant.

Colin sighed, looking in her direction. “There is a way to make everything funny. Say it. We’ll help you figure out, right Merlin?”

Merlin dropped the pot he was holding but caught it with magic before it broke. When did he become the go-to person for everyone’s questions?

“Sure,” he mumbled. “ It’s better if you’re prepared. Harry said that Lupin had them practice the spell on a real Boggart.”

Jack grimaced and bit his lip and Merlin had a feeling that he was about to clamp shut again, but then he whispered, “It’s already coming true.”

Colin was about to say something but Merlin shot him a warning look. If they pushed the boy, he wouldn’t say it. They had to be patient with him.

Jack took more care than needed to situate his puffapod. “It’s about Elsa.” He didn’t look at them but continued pouring more soil into the pot. “I’m afraid that…” the soil was spilling out but he kept trying to make it fit, “she’s turning into our mother.”

He moved his hair out of his eyes with a soiled hand and smudged his cheek. He looked Colin in the eye, his voice firm. “Turn _that_ into something laughable, Colin.”

Colin shrugged, glancing at where the girl was. “Your mom is really pretty though…”

“Colin,” Merlin cut him off. “I don’t think that’s what he means.”

He half-wished he would see Elsa turn into their mother just to study her better, still curious about what type of being she could be. But whatever it was, Jack feared her.

Jack crammed more soil into the pot, making the mess around him even worse. Merlin put a hand on his to stop him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Just tell me how to make it funny because if that Boggart comes out in the shape of Elsa that’s turning into my mother, I will not laugh.”

“Everyone grows up eventually, Jack.” Merlin maintained eye contact. “You’re changing too. Everyone changes...”

Everyone but him. He was jealous of their ability to change without magic.

“That doesn’t help me,” Jack whispered.

“We’ll figure something out.”

* * *

Feisty Bobbin’ flew in circles before landing in front of Jack, holding a little mouse in her talons.

“Nice catch but can you not eat it in front of me, please?”

Thankfully, the little owl obliged and flew to a lower level to enjoy her meal.

The Owlery had become Jack’s sanctuary. His friends had become overly attentive lately, taking turns chaperoning him as if waiting for him to have a mental breakdown or something, and he was rarely able to escape them and have some privacy.

His grim mood instantly lightened when he watched the owls go about their silly routine, bobbing their heads, chasing each other and blinking one eye at a time.

“Found you.”

Jack jumped at the announcement, making Enlin laugh. His father was in his Sylph form, hovering in the air like a white-haired blue fairy. He could fly so fast, it always appeared as if he came out of nowhere. Jack shook his head at him. He had asked him to stop surprising him like this but Enlin enjoyed it too much.

Jack leaned on the sill of the wall opening, overlooking the castle grounds. It looked like the sky wanted to be clear but kept getting disrupted by dark clouds. He blamed the Dementors for this. Their shadowy figures floated at the periphery, making it feel like Hogwarts residents were prisoners they were guarding.

“What type of spirits are Dementors?”

Enlin’s wings shuddered. “Dark abominations. How about you tell me what you think of them?”

Jack sighed, tired of everyone always trying to teach him a lesson by asking him questions. “They emit cold and affect the weather but it feels wrong. There is something about their magic that just… doesn’t belong.”

Enlin flew over to his shoulder and they watched the creature glide. “They don’t use nature’s magic, that’s why it feels wrong to you. They create cold by sucking the warmth out. They’re quite dangerous to humans - can suck their very spirits out of their bodies.”

“What about us?”

Enlin sighed. “Us, elementals, they could potentially kill, more specifically, devour, but we’re quite skilled at defending ourselves. And we’re too fast to be caught by a Dementor.”

Jack frowned, still not liking the idea of his father falling prey to this vile cloaked figure. “Be careful when you’re out there.”

“You too, Jack. I don’t know what effect it would have on you and really don’t want to find out the hard way.”

“I have no interest in getting caught by one of them.”

“Did the wizards invite them here willingly?”

“They’re supposed to catch this evil killer wizard that got away from prison and is expected to come here.”

“And the safe haven becomes a bait.” Enlin flew in front of his face, trying to wipe the grim expression off. “Are you ready to continue what we started this summer?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“We should take to the air.”

Jack ran to the broom shed and borrowed one of the school brooms. “Let’s race.”

“Are you certain you can keep up?”

“One way to find out.”

Jack didn’t wait for a confirmation and shot up, willing the broom to fly him as fast as the wind made possible. Enlin soon caught up and gained on him. Jack flattened himself on the broom and pushed his control to the limits but couldn’t quite catch up.

Enlin halted abruptly and manipulated the wind to bring Jack to a stop. Though he didn’t win the race, Jack was grinning broadly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun.

Enlin pointed ahead. “Starlings.”

One of the dark clouds on the horizon wasn’t like the others. It changed shapes as it contracted, becoming darker, and expanded, losing opacity like water stirred by an invisible hand of gods. Jack felt skeptical about this challenge. He had succeeded at commanding birds but never tried it on a large group like this one.

“Begin.”

Jack kept his eye on the shifting dark cloud of birds ahead and stretched out his hand, trying to change the direction of their flight. A couple of them broke the formation but then rejoined the flock against his wish. He tried again, aiming at the middle but they only faltered for a moment before falling back into the cloud.

“You can’t change nature, son. Work with it.”

“What do you mean?” Jack wished his father would for once make himself clear on the first try.

“Don’t separate them. Their instinct is to stay within the group.”

“You want me to control all of them at the same time?”

He was crazy. There had to be hundreds of birds in that cloud.

Enlin demonstrated by waving his hand and the birds obeyed, forming a perfect circle. It was really cool but far out of Jack's skill. Jack glared at him for showing off. Enlin sighed loudly and released control, allowing the birds to go back to their irregularly-shaped cloud.

“Treat them like one organism. Try to think like a starling, see the world from their point of view, be one with them. It will help you connect to the collective will of the entire murmuration.”

Jack tried to imagine what it would be like to be a little starling. He wished he had translucent wings like his father but he would settle for a feathered pair that would allow him to fly without a broom. He watched the birds fly side by side, turning at the same time as if they could feel each other’s thoughts. It was probably really cool to have so many friends and siblings and always fly everywhere together. It reminded him of when he was small and was so close to Elsa, he spoke of himself as “we”. They did everything together and always knew what the other wanted or needed. They were a pair of starlings once.

But those years were long gone. She was as separate from him and unreachable as these birds. He didn’t know how to connect again and wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

“I can’t do it.” Jack dropped his hand. “I’m done for today.”

“But we’ve only just begun.”

Jack didn’t listen and flew back, letting the wind dry his eyes. He took a long way down, making many loops and barrel-rolls. By the time he landed, his hair was wind-blown, his gums dry from grinning and his head was blissfully quiet.

“Jack, don’t give up,” Enlin hovered next to him. “You’ve been making progress. I believe you can become a skilled Airlord.”

“Not today.”

Someone whistled and Jack turned around to notice Oliver Wood, a Gryffindor seventh-year, standing under a nearby tree. “Jack Nix. I had no idea.”

Jack froze, wondering if Oliver would accuse him of talking to imaginary friends. The Sylph were invisible after all.

Oliver sauntered over, looking Jack up and down. “What are you flying?” He took Jack’s broom and squinted at the faded letters. “Cleansweep Three.” He frowned. “This old thing shouldn’t even be able to get you in the air!”

“What is this boy’s problem?” Enlin asked, sitting down on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack scratched the back of his neck, wondering if he was in trouble for using a school broom without permission. “It works fine.”

Oliver returned it. “Are you able to recreate the spiral dive you just did there or was it luck?”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I’d love to see it again.”

“I do not approve of how this boy is looking at you,” Enlin said into his ear. “He has the look of a madman.”

But Jack didn’t mind proving that he could fly any old broom so he gladly shot into the air. He smirked in satisfaction, hearing Oliver’s “Whoa!” It was about time someone noticed how awesome he was.

When he paused in the air, so high up, Oliver was small like an ant, Enlin caught up to him.

“I must caution you against showing humans your Airlord abilities, Jack. It isn’t wise.”

Jack rolled his eyes, tempted to tell his father to shut up. “Why are you so against me having fun?”

Enlin frowned but didn’t have a response ready so Jack ignored him and dove, making several spectacular barrel rolls and thrilling corkscrew spirals. He was going so fast, he nearly missed the landing but stopped the broom at the last moment, sending dust and grass around. He shook his head, feeling a little dizzy after all the spinning.

Oliver was laughing heartily and ran over to clap him on the back. “Excellent. Have you ever played Quidditch, Jack?”

“I played Keeper with Ginny Weasley.”

Oliver put a finger to his lips and thought for a moment. “Your flying skill might be wasted as a Keeper. Come to our practice next Saturday to try out.”

Jack’s heart started racing. “For the Gryffindor team?”

Oliver patted his shoulder. “We have our players for the year already but it’s wise to have a trained reserve in case of injuries or who knows what. This is my last year. We MUST win the Cup and I need only the best on my team. You’ll come?”

“Yeah!”

“Excellent!”

”More showing off?” Enlin hissed in his ear. ”You mustn’t do this, son.”

Jack waved him off. ”What position do you think I would be good for?”

”I am not a fly you can swat away!”

”Chaser. What else?” Oliver wrapped his arm around Jack’s shoulder. “It’s a rough position for a twelve-year-old.”

“I’m almost thirteen.”

Oliver shook him a bit. ”That's the spirit! I know you can handle it, kid. A little bruise here or there won’t stop you from winning a game, will it?”

“Jack!” Enlin called but Jack ignored him, annoyed with the interference. If he knew him at all, he would’ve known how much this meant to him.

He could already picture the crowd gasp when seeing his air stunts, his teammates cheering him on as he scored several points in a row, and the celebration after a winning match. He would be the brightest star among these starlings.


	7. Confidence

“And the ogre says, _I was here first!_ ” Flitwick finished and everyone at the staff table laughed. Well, everyone except for Snape. Did he ever laugh at all?

Tonight, Snape was eyeing Remus a lot, and so did McGonagall, though with her it seemed involuntary. Remus sighed, his eyes automatically looking up to the ceiling, but it was ordinary, boring even. Instead of reflecting the evening sky, the light of the floating candles danced on the stone surface. No one knew what happened to it, why the illusion stopped working, and Professor Dumbledore had not cracked its mystery yet.

Remus excused himself from the evening feast early, knowing that he had to get ready. Tonight was the night. But he was hopeful. For the past week, he had been taking the Wolfsbane Potion that Snape grudgingly brewed for him and could feel its effects immediately. The days before the transformation, he was always weak and sickly, but now, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this well. The Potion was working and he trusted it but he would take precautions anyway.

A loud sound like the crack of a whip sounded behind him, followed by a high-pitched, “Master Lupin.”

Remus turned to greet his visitor, wrinkle-skinned House-Elf dressed in a tea cozy that had a Hogwarts insignia on it. The small creature bowed low while holding out a plate in front of him.

“Great timing. Thank you.”

“The instructions called for one generous portion of raw steak and a large bone. Did you mean uncooked steak, Master?”

Remus took the plate. “That’s exactly what I need. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” The Elf bowed deeply and with a crack, disapparated.

With a spell, Remus emptied everything out of his office storage cupboard until the small room was stripped to bare stone. He put the plate next to a blanket he set down, feeling sorry for planning such a tight trap for his wolf, hoping the steak might console him. He really did not want to wake up to a destroyed office. Even if the Potion worked, his wolf might wreck the place out of boredom.

And if the Potion didn’t work, or his wolf broke out of the cupboard, he had a precaution built for that. Remus locked the main door and put his trusty enchanted chains on it as an absolute unbreakable barrier as well as sound-muting charms so no one would hear him or the wolf.

The familiar crawling under his skin warned him that the time was drawing near. He stripped out of his clothes and locked himself in the cupboard. Blanket provided him warmth for now. The wolf wouldn’t need it in the same way, but he would appreciate not having to lay down on bare stone.

It was dark in there, the only light came through the crack under the door. He was contemplating what he might do in the future, what light source he could develop that the wolf wouldn’t destroy, and it began.

Instead of the usual bone-breaking agony, the transformation came over him smoothly and in no time he was no longer in control.

The wolf opened his eyes, feeling strangely droopy. He shook his fur and stretched his legs while looking around the new surroundings. The dark space was cramped and smelled of musty stone and… The wolf sniffed around to locate the aroma that was making him salivate until he found the plate. He swallowed the meat chunk in one go, it wasn’t as tasty as a fresh kill but it would do. There was also a bone there. Was this what his human thought he wanted? He wished he could talk some sense into him. He wanted more meat, not bones!

He explored the small space some more, looking for a way out, tried the door again and again, but it wouldn’t budge. Normally, he would have gotten angry at it but for some reason, he just didn’t feel like trying to take it apart. He sat down and whined. He would love some company, it was so boring here on his own. He howled to the moon he couldn’t see, hoping other wolves heard him but no one responded to his call, not even an echo.

He eyed the bone on the floor, the only entertainment his human left him. This ridiculous bribe did not make up for such a boring cell but he had nothing else to do and was too tired to attempt to break out. He grabbed the bone with teeth and laid down on the blanket, where he gnawed it, holding it with his front paws. Oh, what a boring human he had.

* * *

As the weather turned cooler, everyone started to light their fireplaces, and Jack had to get in the habit of planning where to sit so he wouldn’t be trapped too close to it. But his roommates were the opposite, and this morning, they sat in the Great Hall with their backs facing the giant fireplace in which logs roared with a never-ending searing blaze. Jack sat opposite them and winced when he could still feel the heat.

He rushed through the breakfast, determined to leave as soon as possible and caught Colin staring at him. He was already jittery, excited for the tryouts today, wondering if he had what it took to make the team, and knowing he was being watched made him want to hide under the table.

“Would you stop?”

”Sorry.” Colin sighed. ”I hate my skin. What do you use to make your skin so flawless?”

”What?”

Colin lifted his mousy-blond bangs to reveal a red-speckled forehead. ”Both Merlin and I have to deal with acne but your skin is perfect.”

Merlin’s spoon slipped out of his hand and landed in his porridge with a splash. ”I have acne now?”

Colin pointed. ”Your nose.”

Merlin inspected his nose and groaned when he found the big red culprit. ”It hurts too.”

Jack looked between them but stayed quiet, unsure of what the appropriate reaction was.

”I know a reliable recipe,” Merlin said, inspecting the rest of his face. ”I'll cook it up for us during the next Potions. For now,” he barely moved his hand and the pimple vanished, “this will do but it’s only temporary.”

He did the same favor to Colin who jumped from joy. “You’re the best, Merlin. I owe you BIG time.”

Jack ate a solid meal, knowing he would need his energy. It was a big day. He left his friends before the heat fatigued him into sleepiness, and they promised they would catch up with him at the pitch.

Outside, refreshing cool autumn breeze awaited. Orange leaves blew around his feet like dry flames, and he waved his hand, trying to control them. It took him a few tries before he succeeded. It wasn’t as easy to control the wind as his father made it look, but he was confident that he would learn it eventually.

Having the wind whip his robes about was starting to restore his confidence and by the time he arrived at the pitch, he proudly marched onto the yellowing grass, holding school broom by his side. Since he was the first one there, he took a moment to appreciate the sheer size of the pitch. He had fantasized about this moment every time he watched a game of Quidditch last year, waiting for his chance to play.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

Jack turned around to smirk at Potter who walked in with the Weasley twins. Jack kicked his broom nonchalantly, it landed on his shoulders, and he supported his arms on it as he waited to see what Potter would do.

Oliver Wood came up behind them and didn’t waste time. “Jack, you’re here. Excellent, we can get started.”

“Get started with what?” Potter asked.

“Training. What else, Harry?”

The three Chasers, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia came out and Oliver rubbed his hands together. “Everyone’s here. Ladies, Jack will be trying out for a reserve Chaser today so he’ll be working with you.”

The girls looked him over and Jack nodded to them in greeting.

Alicia smiled at him. “I was a reserve at first as well and I made the team the next year.

“You didn’t tell us we’re having tryouts,” Potter complained. “Where are the others?”

“If Jack proves to us that he can play, we won’t need others. Here’s the plan,” Oliver got straight to the point while Potter pouted. “We’ll play a Chaser war. Jack, pair up with Angelina, Katie - with Alicia, work as teams and try to get as many shots past me as you can - if you can - while avoiding the bludgers Fred and George will keep sending at you. You can handle it, Jack, right?”

The twins stood on Jack’s sides. “We’ll go easy on you at first.”

“But stay aware of your surroundings.”

“A bludger to the head is…”

“Memorable.”

Jack grinned at one, then the other. “I’m ready.”

He feared that the tryouts would be some boring repetitive exercise but this sounded almost like a real match. He couldn’t wait to get started.

“Harry, you know what to do.”

Oliver opened the wooden box where the balls were strapped in like rabid animals, struggling to get free. While he worked on freeing them without releasing them, Angelina, a tall, dark-skinned girl with a black braid as long as Elsa’s, put a hand on Jack’s shoulder and frowned while looking at his broom.

“It’s a shame you don’t have better equipment.”

Jack caressed his broom. “This gal’s got character.” He pointed at the many scratches covering the handle. “I bet there’s a story behind each of these battle scars.”

The crease between her eyebrows proved that she didn’t quite buy into his love-thy-broom style but when Oliver released the balls and they all took to the air, she exchanged an open-mouthed expression with the other girls. By the end of the game, he would show them what real flying looked like.

Playing proved to be harder than flying alone. He had to remember what his position was, look out for the Weasley twins as they liked to sneak up on him and always kept him on guard. Once they learned that “going easy on him” was too easy as Jack could maneuver out of the way effortlessly, with matching evil smirks, they started showing their real skill, determined to get him.

Despite their best efforts, Jack wasn’t hit even once and intercepted the ball Katie passed to Alicia with ease and snuck it past Oliver. He still wasn’t sure how to take the ball from them when they clung to it tightly. He’d seen during matches the opposing team physically engage a Chaser but it felt wrong to just attack one of them.

So he continued stalking Katie, waiting for her to drop the ball. He chased her so far to the other side of the pitch that she thought it would be best to pass the ball to Alicia but she underestimated Jack’s speed. He made a sharp turn, grabbed the ball while making a corkscrew spiral sideways and raced back to the hoops with the two girls pursuing him. He snuck the Quaffle past Oliver and laughed out loud. He was too good.

“Don’t forget that you’re not playing alone,” Oliver reminded. “Pass to Angelina.”

Jack wasn’t sure if that was really the best course of action. He was faster than her. Should he miss a score just to play nice?

He continued the tactic that worked for him earlier, much to Angelina’s and Oliver’s grumblings until Katie and Alicia cornered him. Angelina was right behind them, in a prime position to score the goal but he feared that the girls would snatch the ball if he threw it. A brilliant idea formed in his head. He took a swing, feigned throwing the ball, and dropped a few feet in the air, making the girls and Oliver gasp, and from that position, he passed the ball to Angelina who caught it perfectly and immediately scored.

The girls cheered while Oliver watched the Quaffle fall to the ground.

Angelina flew over and patted Jack on the back. “For a moment there, I thought you forgot about me.”

“They thought they knew my style already and when I did something unexpected, they didn’t know what to do.” Jack grinned at her, feeling that it was a very clever way to cover up that he doubted her skill.

“That was really spiffing, Jack,” Fred called over, his brother cheering.

Oliver retrieved the ball and came back, holding it under his arm. “If you did something like this during the game, you would take everyone by stupendous surprise. They’d never see it coming. Do you have more tricks like that up your sleeve?”

Jack smirked. “I’m the king of tricks.”

* * *

“That’s beautiful!” Sue Li exclaimed, eyeing Elsa’s headband with envy. “What type of crystal is it? I can’t even see the metal that’s holding it together.”

Elsa slowly glanced at her roommate. It was time to see how well witches would handle the truth. “It’s made entirely of ice crystals. The different shades come from a variance in ice density.”

Sue Li gaped. “Where did you buy it?”

“Buy?” Elsa chuckled and finalized her hair bun and noted how the headband made her look a little taller. She liked that. “You can’t buy magic like this, Sue. I created it.”

The girl bit her bottom lip. “Can you make me one?”

“Oh, sweetie. It would melt on you.”

Elsa put her combs away and left the room without further comment. She had an appointment with McGonagall to get to and didn’t want to make a wrong impression by being late.

The reason for the unexpected invite became apparent when she walked in. Jack sat on the couch and groaned when he saw her.

“Don’t give me that attitude, young man,” McGonagall scolded him while carrying a tray of teacups and biscuits. “Come in, Elsa.”

When Elsa sat next to him, he leaned away but she tried to not let it bother her. He was acting so childish. One of them had to be the adult for a change.

McGonagall handed them each a cup and sat in the armchair, holding hers with two hands. “It hasn’t escaped my attention that there is a lot of tension between you two.”

Elsa sipped her tea and admired the pretty hand-painted blue snowflakes on the white ceramic. She wondered if McGonagall bought it just for the occasion of sitting with the two of them for tea.

“Exquisite artwork on these cups,” Elsa tried a polite icebreaker.

“I’m glad you like them,” the witch smiled lightly and sighed, looking at Jack. “Why won’t the two of you just discuss what’s bothering you?”

Elsa sipped her tea, unsure of how to start.

McGonagall’s smile vanished. “Starting with you, Jack. Tell Elsa what bothers you.”

“I already told you what I think,” Jack grumbled, not looking at either of them. “You made the wrong choice, Elsa.”

She put the cup down and faced him. “And I told you that you’re mistaken. I made the best choice for me.”

He scooted further away on the couch.

McGonagall sighed. “This is a good start. Keep talking.”

The wooden grandfather clock in the corner ticked away in a steady rhythm, widening the space between them. It didn’t feel like a good start. Why did he have to be so stubborn? It was clear that he was the immature problem here.

“I would have never had it in me to leave you,” Jack said quietly. “It bothers me how quickly you decided - like it was an easy decision.”

“If you stopped being so selfish and thought about more than yourself for a moment, then maybe you’d understand.”

Jack turned to her and whispered, “Selfish? Loving you was selfish?” Frost started building under his hand where he held the couch and he took his hand away, his eyes turning cold. “Then, It’s good I don’t anymore.” He turned to McGonagall with a bored expression. “Can I leave now?”

The witch looked between them, exasperated while Elsa set the cup in her lap. Mother warned her that Jack would try to pull her back into his drama. All of these emotional hurdles were a pain. He was always holding her back. She agreed that she was better off without him, but then, why did she feel a sting at his words?

“Not yet” McGonagall offered him the plate of biscuits with a look that said that eating them was mandatory. “Let Elsa respond.”

Jack took a couple of biscuits, stacked them together and bit into both while glaring at Elsa, sending crumbs flying around. Elsa tasted one to allow herself more time. As the buttery flavors melted on her tongue she considered what she really wanted. Did she want her troublesome twin back or was she content on her own?

“Why are you really here at Hogwarts?” Jack took another bite and spoke with a full mouth, “I’m surprised Mother allowed you to come back. Why?”

Elsa smiled, glad that he reminded her of what really mattered more than anything. “To study. Hogwarts gives me access to more types of magic. I want it all.”

Jack rolled his eyes, muttered, “You and your books,” and popped the last of the biscuits in his mouth. He leaned back on the couch and crossed his arms. She took a sip of tea while he observed each of her moves. “You’re not going to apologize, are you.”

“I have nothing to apologize for, but I also do not want a war between us. I don’t turn my back on family.”

He scoffed and looked away, “Yeah, right.”

“I think it’s a good start,” McGonagall chimed in, putting her teacup down. “I think what you two need is more time together. Maybe a project?”

~~~

“A little more to the side. No, left. The other left. Too much - a bit to the right.”

“Do you mean left?”

“Yeah, the other right. Perfect!”

Elsa put her wand down. She never would have thought that moving something with magic was going to be this exhausting. Or maybe it wasn’t the effort that tired her but her company. Jack squinted with a tilted head while looking at the giant pumpkin that she placed on a large platform built just for this occasion.

“I think a bit more to the right.”

Elsa stood next to him and appraised the position. He was right, it was off and it bothered her but she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “You need to have your eyes checked. It’s perfectly centered.”

He waved his hand. “Whatever. Good enough. What’s next?”

“The floating streamers.” She pointed at several boxes stacked to the side. “We’re supposed to make them float.”

He groaned and walked over to the box. While he wasn’t looking, she centered the pumpkin.

They found that they couldn’t control too many ribbons at the same time so cooperation was the only way to complete this task. Jack used a hovering charm to position a handful of ribbons right beneath the bats he had conjured earlier, and Elsa used a suspension charm so they would stay there.

“It’s so boring with the ceiling illusion still broken,” he said while hovering the ribbons. “My huggers are definitely an improvement. Do you think I can keep them there past Halloween?”

There were thrice as many bats than what the wizards had conjured last year, and now, Jack sent them all to the ceiling where they settled on the arches, turning the Great Hall into a giant bat cave.

She cast the hovering charm on his ribbons. “Do they know what happened to end the illusion?”

“Merlin thinks it wore out. I’m just surprised they haven’t cast a new one yet.”

“Maybe these wizards are not as skilled as they claim. I wonder if I can learn illusions.”

“We could ask Merlin to show us.”

Elsa sighed. This was the fifth time Jack has mentioned him today. She had to admit that they were learning a lot from him but Jack was treating him like an idol.

“What was this that you wanted to tell me about what we are?” he asked, grabbing more ribbons.

She smirked in satisfaction. She knew he would be curious. “I know what type of being Mother is and what that makes us.”

He frowned. “Is it really that important to put a label on ourselves?”

“Knowing helps me understand. It answers the millions of questions I had but also presents a host of many possibilities. It puts everything in a new perspective.”

Jack floated some more streamers and she suspended them. Then he glared at her. “So, are you going to say it or you’re waiting for some dramatic moment to make your reveal?”

She looked around them to confirm that they were alone and whispered. “Mother is a goddess.”

Jack scratched his head. “No, she isn’t.”

“Yes, she is.”

“We’ve met Triple Goddess last year. Remember how powerful she felt? Mother is nowhere close to godly powers.”

Elsa frowned, still as outraged as the first time she heard the tale. “Her powers were _stolen_ from her.”

“Who can steal powers from a goddess? Another goddess?”

“It was a group of overpowered mortals who abused her good will,” Elsa shook her head. “Can you imagine the shock of having to learn how to live like a mortal after eons of being a deity?”

Jack was frowning but didn’t comment, grabbed a handful of streamers and continued their work.

“So now, you know.”

Elsa performed the spell and waited for his reaction but it didn’t come. Was he thinking? A contemplative Jack was not something she was used to.

After they had emptied all the boxes, she reached out. “Do you understand now what we are?”

He shrugged, looking at the floor. “Not really. What are the children of a former goddess and a Sylph called? I don’t imagine this has ever happened before so why would there be a name for us?”

She put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and at least once, he didn’t shrug her off. “She might have lost her godly powers but it does not take away what she is. She is still a goddess which makes us godlings.”

Jack frowned. “Godlings. Never heard that before.”

“Godlings are children of a god and a mortal. Half-mortals.”

He scratched the back of his neck, mulling that over. “You make it sound like we’re these powerful beings but I don’t feel all that special.”

“That’s because you’re still learning how to use those powers. Jack, have you ever wondered WHY we have a such strong connection to magic and can produce it without using spells? How do we draw power from the Earth?” She put a hand over his heart. “It comes from within us because our mother is a nature deity. She created the mountains that surround us right now! When we feel the Earth’s magic, we feel Mother’s magic!” She laughed, still having a hard time wrapping her mind around how amazing her mother was. “We’ve always known that we’re magical twins, Jack. This mystic bond that we were born with is divine.”

“Divine. Right.” He snorted. “Why did she lie to us about what she is?”

Elsa sighed. “Imagine being a mere shadow of what you were. It’s a painful topic for her so she doesn’t admit it. Besides, humans have come to call her the Spirit of Winter so it’s not a total lie.”

Jack did not look completely convinced. Why didn’t he understand how big of a deal this was? Maybe the implications of the truth needed time before they sunk in.

“Mother taught me a new skill. Once I master it, I might become the most powerful being in this castle. You can do it too, Jack. You’ve been using it unknowingly - I’ve seen it. Join me. I’ll teach you how to control it.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re getting a big head, Elsa. Do you really think that you’re more powerful than our teachers? Dumbledore? The entire wizarding community reveres him. They say that he’s the only wizard the big bad Voldemort fears. Can you take on Dumbledore?”

Elsa straightened up and lifted her chin. “You’d be surprised what true power is, Jack. Have you ever wondered why hags never ganged up on Mother, why they accept their life of servitude with no complaint? Why do they listen to her?”

“Imagine,” she pointed her wand at the orange sea of streamers overhead, “if one could control wizards the way Mother controls hags. How powerful would that someone be?”

Jack huffed. “You can’t be serious. Dumbledore is not a mere hag!”

“He is but a human.” She patted his shoulder while he stared at her open-mouthed. “True power lies in control.”

He shrugged her off, not looking as excited at this revelation as she thought he ought to be. “Is this why you came back?”

“I came back for a lot of reasons.”

“What’s next? Are you going to start small or go straight for the kill?”

“The kill? Jack, I have a feeling you’re misunderstanding this.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. To master a skill like that, you’ll start from someone weaker. Are you testing this on Luna already? Is she your slave?”

Elsa blinked, surprised at his hostility. “What? No…”

“After you’re done with the small fish, you’ll go after our more powerful friends.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’d like to see you try to control Merlin. I bet he could flatten your ego in five seconds.”

“Give me a few weeks and I can take him on.”

He huffed and crossed his arms. “I was only joking and here you are, showing your real colors. You’d really go after our friends? Is nothing off-limits with you?”

“Be careful with those ‘friends,’ Jack. Have you ever considered what type of being Merlin is?”

“What?”

“He’s not human.”

“Now, you’re ridiculous.”

“I can prove it to you.” She smirked at him. “Remember that second sight that Peeves taught us? Try it on him.”

Their conversation was disrupted by Luna who stared at the decorated Great Hall with awe. “I like the contrast of the orange streamers on black bat-background.” It was hard to tell if she was surprised. Her eyes were usually this wide no matter the circumstance. “Elsa, have you seen Sue Li?”

“Not since this morning. What’s wrong?”

“We were supposed to study together but she didn’t show. I’ll keep looking.” And she skipped away, humming to herself.

Elsa turned back to her brother but found that he was no longer there. She didn’t mind though. She gave him a lot to think about and hoped that he would soon see things her way. She grinned, imagining his reaction when he saw what Merlin looked like when viewed with the second sight. Elsa wouldn’t have bothered to notice if not for a comment her mother made once.

~~~

“Why is Merlin at that school of yours?” Beira asked her daughter.

“I didn’t know you had a chance to meet him,” Elsa replied, surprised that her mother mentioned an insignificant student.

“Triple Goddess has always been such a meddler. I wonder what she sent him there for.” Beira shot her daughter a scornful look. “She was one of the deities that refused my plea for immortality - just because she couldn’t see how it would affect the timeline.” Beira rolled her eyes and sighed. “Always so obsessed with her timelines. Watch out for him. Anyone who isn’t on our side could attempt to stop you.”

“I’ll be ready for him.”


	8. Nasty temper he’s got

“You’ve outdone yourself,” Colin said. “That was the largest colony of conjured bats in the world.”

“Probably the only one,” Merlin added. “I don’t think anyone has ever tried to conjure this many. Only our Jack.”

Jack scratched his head, looking between them. “But they looked good, right?”

“Your decorations were splendid. McGonagall had a good idea to give you two that project.”

“It was spooooktacular,” Colin grinned. “And I loved the skeletons walking upside down on the ceiling. How did you do that?”

“That was Elsa’s idea.”

“Where was she anyway?” Colin bit his lip, his cheeks going slightly pink. “I wanted to praise her work and… She never came?”

“She said she would only come for a quick bite before going to - get this - the library.” Jack put a palm against his forehead.

“We must have missed her.”

Jack was looking sideways at Merlin again, opened and closed his mouth like he did many times tonight.

Merlin felt too tired to deal with riddles. “If you want to say something, just spill it.”

Jack took a long breath and said on the exhale, “I have a theory.”

“About?”

Jack exchanged a look with Colin who jumped up from joy. “Ask it! Ask it!”

“About you. You said you would answer truthfully. You swear?”

“Oh, that. Yes, go for it.” He had long forgotten about the theory game but he wanted to stick to his word. Besides, he was curious.

Colin leaned in and Jack whispered, “You’re not human.”

Colin gasped and held his breath, waiting for an answer.

Merlin often asked himself that question. Was he still human? He was overpowered and immortal - all things humans were not and yet he wasn’t anything more. “One hundred percent human.”

Jack furrowed his brows, not quite believing. “That’s the truth?”

“It is.”

He was tempted to throw the same theory back at him, suspecting that the boy was only half-human but decided to leave it for later. He was too tired to deal with Jack’s secretiveness and doubted he would open up when there were witnesses around.

“Any more theories?”

“Not yet.”

That was disappointing. Merlin wanted to drop the pretense and hoped that knowing the truth would prompt Jack to open up about himself but what if he was wrong? Some people he had told in the past did not handle the truth well. Merlin sometimes doubted that fifteen hundred years had really passed. Where did it go? He couldn’t recall a few centuries as if he skipped them. It was a wonder his brain worked at all, considering how many memories it held.

As they got to the staircases, Colin and Jack fell behind, whispering to each more theories about him and Merlin climbed the never-ending stairs with Hermione. The magic of this castle made no sense. He suspected that the Founders had intended for moving staircases to act like escalators but failed in their design. He couldn’t imagine that anyone would enjoy climbing stairs so much to make them pointlessly interactive.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked. “You look like you need to be carried to your dorm.”

Merlin rubbed his belly while Harry and Ron who were just ahead of them glanced at them. “I might have eaten too much.”

“Might have,” Harry joked and Ron snickered.

Merlin glared at him but then smiled all the same. Hogwarts food was great and it wasn’t like he had to worry about getting fat. His body would remain frozen in the skinny state it was in when he was this age so he could enjoy the festive feast to its limits.

Before they got to their dorm, everyone stopped, clogging up the staircase.

“What’s the hold-up?” Ron asked.

They craned their necks but couldn’t see over the heads of Gryffindors. Whispers started to reach down from the source of the traffic jam.

Percy Weasley’s voice rang out from the front. “Someone get Professor Dumbledore immediately.”

Within a curiosity-intensifying couple of minutes, Dumbledore showed up, followed by McGonagall, Lupin and Snape. As the sea of Gryffindors parted for him, the source of the commotion was revealed: the portrait of the Fat Lady was ripped and she was gone.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

Peeves the Poltergeist floated over, grinning wide. “Peevsie knows.”

“What did you see?” Dumbledore asked.

“Fat Lady is hiding. He got her good.”

“Who?”

“Nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black.”

After shooting Merlin a discreet but poignant glance, Dumbledore sent the students to the Great Hall where they were soon joined by children from the other Houses and told to stay there overnight while the teachers went around the castle, searching for Sirius Black.

Hermione and Ron whispered to themselves how lucky it was that they were all in the Great Hall and didn’t encounter the deranged criminal but it didn’t sit well with Merlin. Black attended Hogwarts. He had to have known that the Halloween feast was tonight and Harry wouldn’t be in his dorm. It didn’t make sense.

The trio pulled their sleeping bags away from the others and Merlin stuck close to Harry. As they whispered the theories of how Black might have snuck into the castle, along with all other students who were too riled up to sleep, Merlin closed his eyes and used his Mind’s Eye to scan the castle corridors. Black couldn’t be far.

Teachers briskly walked through the halls, opening classrooms and cupboards, checking hidden passages and student dorms. Filch, the Caretaker, tried to talk the Fat Lady into going back to her portrait and his cat looked around, feeling Merlin there.

He was growing tired and wished he had his red crystal with him to energize but he left it in the trunk by the bed where it shimmered with power, completely useless to him now. But Sirius Black was somewhere around and this was no time to be taking things easy.

Merlin pushed himself further and traveled outside the castle to look for clues on the ground. He saw animal tracks in the mud and found deer and wolf - no - _dog_ imprints, but no evidence of a human sneaking around.

He was all the way around the castle when a great chill filled him from the inside. Thinking that something was happening to his physical body, he tried to return to deal with it but found himself stuck in that spot as if someone could hold him hostage. Who in this castle would have the power to recognize his disembodied spirit and trap him?

The cold increased and he found it hard to think. Was there a point to his presence at Hogwarts? He wasn’t helping anyone. He was wasting his time. He should have died a millenium and a half ago. He did not belong in these modern times. Everyone he had ever cared about was long gone, their bones turned to ashes, forgotten by history or turned into mere myths. Their faces flashed before his eyes. He belonged with them. It would be easier to just die and get this over with if only he was allowed. Why did the Triple Goddess insist to keep him around when it was clear that his prophecy would never come true? He wasn’t powerful, smart or brave enough for the great destiny that was promised him. Maybe it was all a mistake. He was a long-forgotten failed experiment of the gods.

The vision of his Mind’s Eye was fading and he wanted to disappear, eager for it all to be over. Then, everything went blindingly white and he found himself in a world of fog, kneeling in front of Triple Goddess. He found that position hard to maintain, tempted to lay down at her feet.

“Emrys, how could you have been so careless?” her ethereal voice held an edge of disappointment but also worry.

He had a hard time staying awake. It would be easier to fall asleep but it was so cold here. He craved a warm blanket, or better yet, someone warm to hold him until he felt better.

Someone touched his shoulders and he inhaled deeply, the fog clearing out of his mind. He took a few breaths before he noticed that the Goddess was helping him. Helping him out of what?

“What just happened?”

Why did she summon him? Did he die? How? If he overdid it with the Mind’s Eye, he should have simply lost consciousness and woken up in his body.

“You exposed your unprotected soul to the Dementors,” her tone was sharp, scolding. “I thought you would’ve been smarter than that.”

He hit his forehead, realizing how close he came to having his soul devoured by the dark creatures. He looked up at her, wide-eyed. She wouldn’t be able to save him if his soul had fallen prey to them. It would have been a permanent death.

“Yes,” she confirmed, power pulsing out of her so strongly, it obscured her features.

“Thank you,” he blurted. The Great Merlin was nearly taken down by a Dementor only because he was looking down instead of up. That would have been the greatest failure in the history of sorcerers.

“Thank you, Goddess,” he repeated. “May I return?”

In response, she walked away from him and he was immediately rushed between the realms.

Merlin gasped once back in his body, dizzy from the travel, and immediately shivered. He wrapped himself with the sleeping bag into a tight cocoon to preserve body heat.

“Are you all right?” Hermione asked, lifting her head over Ron.

“Yeah.” He couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering and whispered a warming spell to engulf the sleeping bag. While it warmed his skin, the chill was inside him, clinging on to his very core as if his insides were frozen. He had never been under Dementor’s influence before. Was this how Harry felt when he was attacked? Poor kid.

“Do you have any chocolate?” he asked her but she shook her head.

He buried himself inside the bag up to the tip of his head and tried to think warm thoughts. He could really use his crystal right now. Why was he stupid enough to leave it behind? Didn’t last year teach him that it was better to carry that battery around just in case? Maybe he assumed that he wouldn’t need it this early in the year, it had only been two months, but the nature of emergencies was unpredictable. He should've known better.

Someone ripped the cover off of his head and he groaned. The cold raised painful goosebumps on his skin, and the chills increased as a warm hand landed on his forehead.

“He’s freezing. Sir Nick,” a boy’s voice said in a moderate loudness. “We need Madam Pomfrey.”

Merlin wrapped himself again and wondered who was injured, vaguely aware that there were hushed whispers nearby. As long as they let him stay inside the bag, he didn't care all that much.

Not long after, someone reached inside a little gentler now, a warm hand touched his forehead and his neck.

“He wasn’t looking well after the Feast,” Hermione whispered to someone. “We thought he was tired from overeating but then he just conked out as soon as he got inside the sleeping bag and now he woke up like this.”

“I’ll take him to the Hospital Wing,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Merlin felt the strange vertigo sensation as a levitating charm was used on him, and he held onto the sleeping bag, trying to keep the warmth within. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey asked everyone to stay in the Great Hall and escorted him out of there on her own.

He was placed on a soft surface.

“Is there anything you can tell me?” she asked. “We’re alone.”

“I just need some chocolate and I’ll be okay.”

“Chocolate?”

“Dementors.”

“Did they get in the Great Hall?”

“No. It’s a long story.”

He should probably come out of hiding now but the spell was still working and it was so cozy in there, he couldn’t give it up. The Great Merlin was hiding from the cold. Oh, what a disappointment he must have been. He just hoped Dumbledore didn’t see him like this. Or Snape. He wouldn’t want any of them to see him weak, especially since it was his fault. He forgot about having to look out for Dementors. They were probably ecstatic, seeing a disembodied spirit travel under their noses and couldn’t wait to check out such irresistible oddity.

Madam Pomfrey helped him get in a sitting position, and he grudgingly left the safety of the sleeping bag to sip the hot chocolate she brought him. He closed his eyes as the divine warmth filled him up from the inside.

“I wish I had chocolate as a child.” He wasn’t sure why he shared but maybe he just wanted to talk about something other than his weakness. “I rarely even had anything that contained sugar. It was a luxury.”

“You grew up humbly?”

“I was born a peasant.”

He took a long swig and shivered as the contrasting temperatures waged a war inside him. Thankfully, warmth won and he took a long breath of relief.

”Will you explain how you were attacked by Dementors while safely within the castle?”

”In short, I sent my consciousness out to search the castle and left my body behind. I was inspecting animal tracks outside when they snuck up on me.”

”You were defenseless out there.”

”Just a tasty soul on a stroll through the grounds.” Merlin took a sip of the chocolate and snorted at the absurdity of it, spilling a little. ”Soul food.”

She watched him with a tilted head, not getting the joke.

”Have they finished searching the castle?”

”Yes. They didn't find Black so there is no need for you to leave this bed tonight.”

”I'm feeling fine now.”

”I insist.”

He would have fought her but he was so cozy, he was tempted to obey. And yet, Sirius Black was somewhere out there. He had to investigate how he got in. Who knew when he would try again.

”You can go look for Sirius Black when you're fully rested.”

It was like she could read his mind. Could she?

He covered his mouth as a yawn took over, making up his mind for him. Dumbledore would have to do without him for a few hours.

Madam Pomfrey took the empty mug away as he got comfortable.

As soon as he closed his eyes and the heaviness of sleep weighed him down, he heard the voice. Someone was saying his name over and over. It started as a faint call, a plea for help until it intensified into an annoyed drawl like a parent that tried to wake a child who was late for school.

Merlin shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide, mouth open in shock. He recognized the voice though he had not heard it in over a thousand years.

It was the Great Dragon, Kilgharrah.


	9. Honesty

After they had searched the castle and found no trace of Sirius Black, Dumbledore instructed the staff to get a couple of hours of rest before the start of classes. No one knew how he could have gotten past the Dementors.

Remus never fully believed the theory that Sirius wanted to hunt down Harry Potter to finish the work Voldemort started, and yet, he broke into the school and tried to get into the Gryffindor Tower, proving them all right. Whatever shred of hope Remus had for him was gone. He didn’t know who Sirius Black was anymore.

Remus proceeded to his quarters and found the door guarded by Snape.

“Severus.” He tried to smile at him but seeing the calculating gaze, he gave up on the pleasantry.

Snape barely moved his lips. “Black got in here undetected. As if he had an accomplice - a friend on the inside.”

Remus wondered when fingers would start pointing at him. “Sirius Black betrayed and killed his friends. Do you really think that someone like that would have any friends left?”

Snape narrowed his eyes into slits. “I’m watching you, Lupin.”

The black cloak billowed behind him as he sauntered away. Did Dumbledore have any doubts as well? Did he regret inviting Remus to Hogwarts?

Remus sat on his bed and took the picture of his friends out of the drawer. He liked to remember Sirius this way - the rebellious but lovable teen, charismatic and carefree. Sirius in the picture spat his wild hair out and shook his head to keep it out of his eyes. James shoved him playfully. Peter, the smallest of their group, laughed at them both, covering his large front teeth as usual. Sirius shoved James back and Remus tried to separate them.

Remus remembered that day well. It was the first summer after they had graduated from Hogwarts when life was pretty much perfect. A few years later, James married Lily and had a son, Harry, while the three of them tried to get used to adulthood. Remus remained in close contact with all of them, but most especially with Sirius.

Countless times Remus had searched his memories for any signs, a clue that would’ve warned him that his closest friend aligned himself with Voldemort but never found any. How could he have missed that?

He couldn’t sleep and when the sun rose just a couple of hours later, he put his worries aside and returned to teaching as if all was well. The students were cautious and spooked by the threat of Sirius Black, whispering theories of how he might have gotten into the school or what he might have wanted.

Not all students had known why Sirius tried to get in but from the way Harry’s friends started acting protectively towards him indicated that Harry knew. But did he know the whole story of who Sirius was? Possibly not. Would he suspect Remus if he knew how close they once were?

The next day, the weather outside matched everyone’s mood. Despite the hail storm, the Gryffindor Quidditch team still practiced. They ran back inside to hide from the chill, soaking wet and shivering. Remus observed Harry, who tried to wipe his fogged up glasses with a wet shirt.

He was looking forward to seeing him play. The boy looked a lot like his father, but his character reminded Remus of Lily. He wished they could’ve seen the wonderful son they had brought into this world.

“You’re all wimps. We could’ve played longer!” someone complained, and Remus looked away from Harry to the rest of the team.

“I think I’ve pushed them as far as they can go,” Oliver Wood said. “I can’t win the game with sick players. We’re done for today. Let’s go upstairs and change out of these wet clothes.”

The team grumbled in agreement and moved on, leaving Jack Nix behind. Unlike the others, he wasn’t shivering or hunched over even though he was just as wet and his white hair was plastered to his face.

Peeves the poltergeist popped into existence right in front of him. “Jack-Friend!”

“Peeves! I had a blast today! The weather is crazy and it made it so much more fun!”

Peeves flipped in the air and shook a finger at him. “Jack-Friend has been naughty. Peevsie knows.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “But Peeves, they love my tricks. We’re playing a game in a couple of days and I’m only a reserve but I reeeeeeally hope I get to play.”

Peeves’ grins stretched from ear to ear. “Do you want Peevsies to help you?”

Jack laughed. “I’ll tell you when it’s time for some mischief-making. What have you been up to?”

Remus leaned on the wall and crossed his arms, amused at this interaction. He had never seen anyone chat with the poltergeist as if he was just another Hogwarts student.

Peeves rubbed his hands together. “I’m planning something explosive. Wanna watch?”

“Yeah!”

Peeves floated over to grab Jack around the waist and they immediately vanished. Remus blinked, unsure if he had seen that correctly. What had Peeves done? He knew that the spirit could make himself invisible or appear and reappear wherever he wished but had never heard of it being able to take someone along.

He used his keen senses to detect him. Jack’s signature scent which was shared only by his sister, was no longer there. He really had disapparated with Peeves.

Remus promptly ran to his office and added an extra page to the letter he wrote earlier. There was no more knowledgeable expert on spiritous beings than his father who devoted his life to studying them. Maybe he could make sense of what Remus had witnessed.

On his way back from the Owlery, he was stopped by Mr. Filch who held his ancient growling cat in his arms. “Professor,” he grimaced as if he found it difficult to say, “all teachers have been called to the Headmaster’s office.”

Remus thanked him and rushed to Dumbledore, hoping he wasn’t late. He found that everyone was already there, standing around the office or sitting on the sofa. He stood behind Professor Flitwick who grinned cheerfully.

“You’re just in time.”

Dumbledore paced around his office slowly, his hands behind his back, deep in thought.

“As we feared, Sirius Black has come to Hogwarts.” He didn’t look at them yet but turned to the other side of the spacious room. “I believe you are all aware that Harry Potter is his target. I ask that you discreetly watch over Mr. Potter. I don’t want you to alarm him to this precaution.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Headmaster.” McGonagall stood nearby and addressed the gathered teachers. “Can I trust you all to walk him to his next class?”

“Of course.”

“It will be no problem.”

The professors agreed but Dumbledore didn’t look placated.

“Headmaster,” Flitwick chimed in, “should we announce…”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, Filius, we should. It is now official that a Ravenclaw student, Sue Li, has gone missing.” A murmur went through the room and he raised his hand to quiet them. “I ask that you not alarm the students though the news will soon spread anyway.”

“Did Sirius Black kidnap her?” Snape asked.

“There is no evidence of that though the timing is suspicious. She was last seen the morning before Halloween.”

“Could she have helped him get in?” McGonagall asked.

Flitwick gasped. “I can vouch for my student. She is a victim.”

The gathered began to argue, some siding with McGonagall, some with Flitwick. Snape remained quiet and glared at Remus.

“If I may have your focus,” Dumbledore said loud enough for them to quiet down. “There is no reason to suspect Miss Li at the moment and we shall treat her as a missing student. Filius, Minerva and I shall handle that issue. I need the rest of you to focus on the riddle of how Sirius Black might have gotten into this school.”

The teachers whispered among themselves but no one offered theories.

Dumbledore continued, “We’ve sealed all known hidden passages in and out of the castle. It worries me that there might be another one we had not discovered yet. Does anyone have any theories about how he was able to get past the Dementors?”

Remus had already inspected all secret passages he knew but did not find his friend’s scent there. It appeared that he walked right through the front door.

“No human should be able to pass by them. I want you all to think hard.”

No human.

Someone might have put a freezing charm on Remus for the ice he felt in his stomach. Yes, no human could get past the Dementors but Sirius was an animagus - he could turn into a dog. This was how he was able to survive Azkaban and escape it. Why had he not thought of it before!

“Remus?” Dumbledore was suddenly in front of him. “You knew Sirius Black best. Can you think of anything?”

Remus almost said it but stopped himself just in time. The four of them kept this secret for a very important reason. Sirius, James, and Peter had learned how to become animagi for Remus so they could keep him company on the full moon, so he wouldn’t have to be trapped in the Shrieking Shack. They broke him out of there every month and in their animal forms, they roamed the Hogwarts grounds, the Forbidden Forest and even the castle.

It was a risk to trust that they could control him, a risk Remus overlooked because it allowed him to be a happier werewolf and brought him closer to his friends. If he told the story to Dumbledore, he would have to reveal that he had betrayed his trust, that the plan to keep a werewolf student contained within the Shrieking Shack had failed. In the end, werewolves were untrustworthy.

“I have no idea,” Remus answered, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. “I’ll tell you as soon as I think of anything.”

Dumbledore’s gaze penetrated deep into him like brilliant-blue lie detectors.

“I trust you will. Harry’s life might depend on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached the end of Act 1. Can you believe it? The good news is that Fun and Games type of chapters are next. Bad news, I'm going to make you wait for it. Noooo.  
> I know, it sucks but it would suck more if I gave you the few chapters that are ready and later revised them.
> 
> In the meantime, what do you think of what's happened so far? What are you excited for? What do you wish for?


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